Metal Gear Solid: The First Encounter
by Rookie's eyes
Summary: A Rookie's novelization of Metal Gear. FOXHOUND operative Solid Snake is called upon not only to save his ally Gray Fox from the Commander, but to cripple Outer Heaven's latest war machine before it can use its new weapon to dominate the world!
1. Prologue

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**~There is an extra segment I've added since this was posted as a teaser in my previous story.~**

**Prologue**

1995.

"The Ice Age of the Cold War has only just receded. The clutch of the Soviet Union has for four years been dissolved. For many citizens of the former Soviet Union as they adjust to their new society, they struggle to climb out of the hole they have been forsaken in by the USSR. As they slowly reorganize themselves into a semblance of order, the weapons which the Soviet Union once possessed in authority have been pawned out to the highest of bidders in desperation. One nation in particular has caught the eye of the United States government.

"Outer Heaven. A nation within the Republic of South Africa which has sprung up like a weed in the midst of a vast warzone, has amassed thousands of second hand Soviet nuclear armaments and various military contraband to arm itself against anticipated war. Greedily they attack the borders, conquering more land and people to hasten their war machine.

"And yet, that is not the greatest of the United States' worries. Along with thousands upon thousands crates of weaponry, strange shipments have been found among the cargo carrying unusual parts with an unknown purpose. The US has charged High Tech Special Forces Unit FOXHOUND with ascertaining its purpose, and if necessary, its destruction."

**Outer Heaven's Research and Development facility**

**2129 Hours, February 2, 1995 **

"This is FOXHOUND agent codename Gray Fox. I've made my way into the development wing of Outer Heaven's fortress." A thinly built man stood in the darkest corner of the room, taking cover behind a set of shelves. With silver hair, grey eyes and a clean face, the man carried only a pistol strapped to his thigh and a machete around his shoulder. He wore a grey urban espionage uniform, standard issue for FOX-HOUND agents when in the field. After hours of trekking through the wilderness surrounding the compound, Fox finally had managed to slip through the defenses without being detected.

*140.85* "Good work, Fox." A rough voice complemented from the other side of the transmission. It was a familiar voice, and though it had lost some of the gusto which Fox had so long admired, it still possessed total authority in the face of adversity. "Punctual as always. This is the best chance we have. Our informant says that within the week the weapon is going to be transported below ground. You should be able to get there using the duct system to get to the machine. You are to find it and uncover the true nature of their new WMD. You must dismantle it by any means necessary, and if at all possible, to find and kill the man responsible for its creation, whoever that may be."

"Get in. Ascertain the purpose of Outer Heaven's black project, blow it up, get out. Could it be any simpler?"

*140.85* "You'd be surprised how complicated so simple an idea can become, but that's the general idea. Good luck Fox."

"Commencing Operation Intrude N312."

Gray Fox entered a long dark corridor, rows and rows of vehicles spread out before him in the hangar, and yet he barely glanced at the vehicles, eyeing the elevator at the very opposite end of the row. Guarded by a single soldier. _This is going to be easier than I thought. _The gray concrete did not absorb sound very well. Were it not for his specially padded boots the guard would have heard him coming from a mile away.

The rafters above the floor hung low, allowing Fox to swiftly leap up the wall, silent as a feline, and grip onto the iron beams. He flipped himself upright onto the beam, Standing straight with the precision of a tightrope walker and making his way along the rafters, headed toward the guard without his noticing.

Fox slowly lowered himself above the soldier, using his strong yet lithe feet to grip onto the iron as he descended. Before the soldier even had time to register the contact Fox wrapped his arm round the sentry's skull, twisting abruptly and severing the man's vertebral column. His body fell limp to the floor, and Fox fell lightly to the floor, landing on the floor to search the dead man for his identification. Among his papers was a level Three security pass which Fox promptly pocketed.

Quickly, he carried the body over to one of the nearby tanks, opening the hatch and hastily dropping the cadaver inside. After quietly shutting the hatch on its new occupant, Fox made his way back to the door, sliding the card down the scanner and eliciting a beep of approval from the machine. He slipped through the doors and into a long hall, a single camera strafing the wall from one corner of the ceiling. Taking note of the camera, Fox pressed his body tightly to the same wall, slipping under the camera's blind spot and passing without incident.

"Boss," Fox spoke through the transceiver, "I'm nearing the duct-work entry point."

*140.85* "Be on the lookout for traps. There could b-"

"Trap doors, maybe lasers. I've covered them in training. Always be on the lookout for parts where the floor is clean and polished, no scuffing from military boots." He whispered lightly into the receiver as he slowly advanced through the hallway to a door on the other side designated "HIGH PRIORITY DEVELOPMENT" an advisory at the midsection of the door also said "Personnel caught without authorization will be imprisoned indefinitely."

Fox laughed inwardly as he thought to himself, _So all I have to do is not get caught. Sounds easy enough._ Beside the door was a duct vent with rusted bolts and screws so oxidized that it took the mere prodding of his finger to snap their bond to the wall. Swiftly Fox slipped inside, turning enough in the cramped space to grip the vent cover and gingerly place it back to its prior position so as not to arouse the suspicion of any passersby.

Stealthy as his namesake, Fox slipped through the duct without a sound, hesitating only to observe his position in the vents to make his way to the hangar. His uniform was constantly catching on stray nails and screws which the workers were too lazy to pound completely in. Fox yearned for the old days when they could afford to spend money on soldiers. He missed his old FOX uniform, almost wishing he hadn't had to throw it away after it was ruined in his skirmish with Big Boss, back when he still preferred Naked Snake over his honorary title. His thoughts returned to the duct as it began to brighten from dark gray to dull silver, and Fox could just make out strips of light at the very end of the vent.

As he came closer he could make out a room lined with supercomputers, a single man, balding, with white hair comparable only to Einstein's, standing among the glowing screens and panels, entering programs and altering settings which Fox neither knew nor cared about. The element of surprise was essential to subdue the scientist without alarm. Fox pressed his hand against the vent, gauging from the resistance that it would not break silently or quickly. Reorienting himself, he pressed his feet against the grating and slammed with all his power.

As he swiftly slid out of the vent the scientist stared, dumbstruck with a look of shock across his face. Before the man could recover Fox spun him around, restraining his arms with his left hand while silencing him by holding his mouth shut. "MRRrrrrrrrrrmph!" the man gave a muffled scream, terror now fully realized in his eyes through his goggles and sweat beading on his forehead.

"Quiet." Fox said in a calm yet strong tone. "Or you will regret it. No one has to lose their head." He drew his machete from its sheath, holding the cold blade to the man's neck. Evidently the man did not realize his hands had been freed. "What's your name?" Fox demanded, but the man could only answer with a whimper.

"What's you NAME!" he thrust his foot behind the man's knee, causing him to crumple to the floor, his head slamming against a nearby locker. In fear he scrambled away until his back was pressed tight against the locker, a moist stain expanding quickly on his pants. He trembled uncontrollably, failing to register the urine on his trousers. "Argh! Okay! Okay!" the man sputtered, "Madnar! My Name… Dr. Drago Pettrovitch Madnar."

"You're the man responsible for the new weapon?" Fox stated more than questioned, drawing out his silenced pistol and taking aim at the man's head.

"No! No please don't kill me! I do this only because I must!... Please! They've got my daughter Ellen! *sobs*. I would have deserted ages ago were it not for my poor Ellen being held by those vagrants!" The man broke down into sobs and incoherent Russian, tears streaming from his eyes. Fox turned his codec dial to "SEND", "Did you get that Boss?"

*140.85* "Yes I did. This will comp*Static*e things. Can he speak cle*Static*ough to tell you what they're building?" The radio began to crackle with static, but Fox was too busy looking at the dark silhouette of the titan machine he had been too preoccupied to notice before. Memories of FOX's revolt flooded back to him, of Gene and his 'Army's Heaven'. The hulking machine which had promised Armageddon nearly twenty years ago was back.

He was so stunned he could barely whisper the words, "M-Metal Gear…." before the static dominated the transceiver.

The cold tip of a gun barrel dug itself into the back of Gray Fox's skull, shaking him out of his awe and back into reality. "Careful tiger.." a woman's voice purred a warning from behind, "It'd be a shame for you to miss your appointment with the Commander. No one has to lose their head."

**

* * *

**

Location Classified

**1316 Hours, February 3, 1995 **

David sat atop a jeep, wearing a plain dirty white T-shirt, a closely cut haircut, standard BDU pants, and combat boots. He took one last long drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and smothering it beneath his heel. The cadences of his FOXHOUND brothers in arms echoed across the courtyard, the words of which he knew by heart. He paused for a moment, watching the new recruits struggle to march and remember the words.

They all recited line by line,, "If you want to know where the generals were, I'll tell you where they were, Yes, I'll tell you where they were, Oh, I'll tell you where they were, If you want to know where the generals were, I'll tell you where they were, Back in gay Paree!"

The Drill instructor asked, "How do you know?"

"we saw them! we saw them! Back in gay Paree! we saw them, Back in gay Paree! If you want to know where the colonels were, They're miles away behind the lines."

"The majors?"

"Playing with the mademoiselles."

"The captains?"

"Down in the deep dugout."

"The sergeants?"

"Drinking up the privates' rum."

"The privates?"

"Up to their necks in shit!"

He walked past the band of soldiers through the courtyard to the main building, a structure which could easily have been a hundred years old, it was the stately center of operations for FOXHOUND and the office of their Commanding Officer, Big Boss. As he made his way through the building, heads turned toward him and people spoke quietly as he passed, thinking that he could not hear them. Snake never was a very social man, and in his time as a soldier he had earned quite a reputation for himself. Before he was a FOXHOUND operative he served in the Green Berets, primarily in reconnaissance and sneak attacks in Iraq, his specialty and the very reason he was approached to join the unit by Big Boss.

All his life he had been molded by the government into what they called 'The ideal soldier', since his induction into military type training nearly seventeen years ago. Since then he excelled in every skill, on and off the battlefield. He didn't like to boast his talents but in his years as a soldier he developed an intelligence quotient of 180 as well as native-level fluency in six languages. Since David's induction he had always had it harder than the rest of the soldiers, but he always knew he could take it. He mastered Close Quarters Combat to the point that even instructors such as his Master, Mcdonell Miller could not beat him.

And yet despite his prowess, like the rest of the unit David did not learn much about his CO. The old soldier earned a world renowned reputation as the "Greatest Soldier of the Twentieth Century". Scars across his arms and back hinted at a lifetime of military history behind his graying hair and beard, but the most evident of his wounds was the eye-patch he wore across his right eye. No one asked and he didn't tell.

From the bits and pieces in hospital records and video that David had pieced together about his mentor, he had lost it during a top secret three day mission on August 30th, 1964. But that was all he could discern from the broken information, no location, no listed adversaries. The only thing which coincided with those dates in the records was the death of a woman by the name of The Boss. And David wouldn't accept that it was a coincidence that they shared similar titles.

The building was filled with war memorabilia. Photos from Ops from their predecessor units as well, including Cobra and FOX. Uniforms decorated the walls, along with weapons and documents. Outdated equipment and a few antique recruitment posters for every branch of the American military. After several minutes through those hallowed halls David turned, headed toward the door which read "FOXHOUND COMMANDING OFFICER, BIG BOSS". He rapped upon the door and a gravel voice answered promptly on the other side, "You may enter."

David entered, bringing his hand to his forehead in salute to his Commander. As David looked into his commander's eyes, he couldn't help but sense a feeling of Déjà vu, a feeling he often experienced when studying the man, despite rarely seeing him alone.

The commander was aged, but it would be heresy to consider the soldier truly old. Standing straight and tall with his hands clasped behind his back, he carried himself with uncommon and unerring dignity, so much so that many soldiers who did not know his manner thought him arrogant. He wore a deep green uniform, a fox elaborately sewn into the top of his military beret. His uniform was decorated simply, utilizing only the medals which denoted his rank. David knew he and Big Boss had one thing in common: neither cared much for congratulatory trinkets.

Big Boss returned the salute, "At ease, soldier." David's arm relaxed, maintaining eye contact until Big Boss added, "Please, have a seat." David tried to read Big Boss' face, but his endeavor was as fruitless as attempting to read a statue's emotion. His mentor's face was set, and the stone was only broken when he posed a question to his disciple, "Are you aware a nation by the name of "Outer Heaven"?

"Yes, I am familiar with it, Sir."

"What do you know of the subject?"

"It's about 200 kilometers north of Galzburg, South Africa. It was established around 1987, after a heavily armed radicalist faction instilled and have managed to maintain a new government in the interest of increasing their military power."

"That is the general summary, yes." His voice changed from formal to warning in an instant, "What we are about to discuss is of utmost importance to the safety of this nation. From this moment on you will be on record as having received top-secret information and will be subject to federal sanctioned retribution both brutal and enduring if the following is discussed outside this office."

David wasn't worried. He'd never had any trouble keeping secrets before, why would his conscience act out now? "I understand the full consequences of my actions pertaining to this information, sir."

"Good. Now, The nation's government at the moment is Communist, due to its youth and the inhabitants of the new country they felt that Communism would be most stable. It is a Dictatorship, lead by the very same man who lead the revolution which lead to its creation. This man is shrouded in secrecy. This is the only photo we've ever been able to attain of him is this one. He placed a picture on the desk which David studied. The man was strong and tall, yet even those observations were sketchy when the picture was so blurred. Big Boss continued, "He calls himself 'The Commander' and has another government associate, Colonel Vermone Catajé, to announce his decrees."

Big Boss had stopped, and so in desire to continue the conversation David asked, "Sir, what pertinence does this have to why I am here today?"

"A week ago we received intelligence from our informants that Outer Heaven is stocking up on its supplies of ammunition and weaponry, mustard gas, and… Nuclear weapons… But that isn't our most pressing concern. Among the shipments of weaponry and gas there hav been large orders of parts whose purpose is not clear. The US government is suspicious that they are in the construction of a secret weapon which could threaten the US's security and the lives of citizens all across the globe. I commissioned a fellow agent of yours, Gray Fox, to determine its intended use and destroy it if it posed any threat to our security… We received this from his transmission."

He pressed the ENTER key on his computer, the sound of static dominating the speakers until finally words broke through the droning, " 'What's your name?' Snake heard Fox demand, answered only by the whimper of a man close by. 'What's you NAME!' The slam of a kick resounded from the speakers, swiftly followed by the crash and bang of a body impacting sheet metal. 'Urrgh! AAaah! Aah!... Argh! Okay! Okay!... M-Madnar. M-My name … Dr. Drago Pettrovitch Madnar!' 'You're the man resp*Static* for the new weapon?' Fox said, the familiar click of a silenced pistol following his statement. 'No! No please don't kill me! I do this only beca*Static* I must!... Please! They've got my daughter *Static*. I would have deserted ages *Static* were it not for my poor Ellen being held by those vagrants!' David could hear sobbing as Fox addressed Big Boss 'Did yo*Static*et that Boss?' 'Yes I did. This will complicate things. Can he speak clearly enough to tell you what they're building?' The sound wasn't broken by anything but static until Fox finally broke through, 'M-Metal Gear….'

David shuddered to think of what had happened to Fox. Besides Big Boss Frank Jaeger was the greatest soldier in the whole unit. He was held in the greatest esteem by all who met him. He was starkly different in battle than the respectful, reserved man that David observed when in the social setting. In battle Fox was inhuman, a look of indifference taking over his face whenever he struck down an opponent. The things he could accomplish simply with his machete always left David in a state of awe. As of yet he is the only man to have earned the coveted title of "Fox", and his solo missions are studied by new recruits and veterans alike for every ounce of talent they may learn from it.

"Metal Gear?" He had no idea what kind of code it was, and yet the words were not foreign. "What is it? A code?" he growled.

"We don't have a clue. All we know is that Frank never made it back to the extraction point. He's been MIA for twenty-three hours or so, and as we speak he may be under torture… Your mission, should you choose to accept it is to infiltrate their experimental facility, retrieve Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar as well as Gray Fox, dismantle their "Metal Gear" weapon and retrieve a copy of the machine's specifications."

"I cannot refuse my country in a time of crisis, Sir."

Slight pain broke through Big Boss' stone face, mixed with what David interpreted as pride, "You will henceforth be referred under the codename 'Solid Snake'. Report back at 1700 for your briefing."

_Author's Note - __In my writing limbo all my ideas for one of my fictions The Exploits of Philanthropy crash and burn, so I decided to take out my frustrations by writing this, my own novelization of Metal Gear 1. Although The ones already on this site have their own merits and some scenes which I do not think I will be able to top, it is my opinion (I repeat: my opinion) that they do not conform with some of the plotlines that made the original game so good. Of course mine will not, and alas, can never be perfect, I am going to strive to make it the very best I can._


	2. Broken Borders Beyond Outer Heaven

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami_

_Author's Note – The culmination of several hours boredom lay for your scrutiny. I've strayed quite a bit from the original plotline, but I find that this is a very appropriate way to introduce many of the characters. I hope you guys like it. I got the inspiration for this from a similar scene in MGS4, but I removed some of the mystery. It should be clear enough once you begin reading._

**Chapter One – Broken Borders Beyond Outer Heaven**

**1847 Hours, February 4, 1995**

Snake watched from South African soil as a K-H1 Iroquois helicopter ascended from the jungle floor, the wind and leaves scattered across the clearing, ripping at his BDU's, slowly dissipating as the rotor-blades distanced themselves from the agent.

There was little light to speak of as Snake trudged through the Outer Heaven territory. Although the moon was nearing its fullest phase, the light that filtered through the clouds and canopy above was dismal at best. He constantly tripped over exposed roots.

The mission was still solo, Big Boss had announced at briefing, but the only entrance to the base which was not too heavily guarded was a river which ran south from the compound. Snake was to meet two fellow FOXHOUND agents who would assist him in his entry by concealing his means of infiltration.

He wore civilian clothes, with the minimum in equipment so that his backpack wasn't conspicuous in size. Snake only carried a standard survival knife concealed beneath the shin of his pants and his codec disguised as an ordinary cell phone inside his rucksack. With proper shades and a few manufactured travel guides he passed as a regular tourist. As he tramped onward through the mossy jungle floor, Snake pulled out his map, ensuring that he was still headed north, to a village called Mahalruit slightly north of the compound where he would begin the infiltration of the compound.

The Jungles moved madly with wildlife, driving Snake's stealth instincts crazy in his wariness of followers. Geckos, snakes, and rodents scurried quickly across the agent's path. Flora and fauna of all shapes and sizes passed Snake's peripheral vision.

Snake's thoughts turned back to the Big Boss' briefing only hours earlier, 'Mahalruit at the moment is in the middle of a civil war. Much of the opposition to the Commander's new regime is gathering there, forming a militia they call "The Provisional African Republican Coalition. (PARC)" Around that region there is likely to be combat, so it'd be best to stay on the side of caution with this one. Avoid unnecessary action. You are to meet FOXHOUND agents Nick Myer and John Turner at the bank of the river. They will be able to supply you your proper equipment and a wetsuit for the journey inside, as well as offer you cover on your way.'

**Nearing Mahalruit, Outer Heaven Territory**

**0452 Hours, February 5**

Hours had passed, and the sounds of the forest gradually changed from the chirping of various insects to the screeching and musical tweeting of exotic South African birds. The sun slowly broke across the landscape, bars of light penetrating the tree canopy which concealed Snake from any watchful and prying eyes.

As the trees began to thin, Snake could make out between their shafts the tiny pinpricks of light which only came from human settlements. As he came closer, it became evident that the town was just as Big Boss had predicted. Men ran about the town in the all too familiar camouflage green, and from far off in the horizon Snake could see a group of trucks, military type by their looks, speeding toward the town, dust twisting and flowing in the wake of the vehicles' trail. They carried older weapons, AK-47's and outdated , never-the-less armed for war. The cries of women and children mingled with the yell of men at war and the distant _Ratta-tatta_ of semi-automatic rifles.

Snake hurried to Mahalruit's edge, crouching through the tall grass to avoid notice by the minutemen. Slipping the knife from beneath his BDU's, Snake leaned against a slipshod hut, back flat to the corrugated iron as he cornered the building. Two clear factions clashed in the combat. A group of resistance members, easily recognizable by their lack of uniform, fired upon a larger group of what was likely a group of Outer Heaven soldiers.

They wore deep green BDU's with black shoulder and knee pads, black masks concealed their faces, their cruel eyes the only sign of their emotion. Snake pulled out a small pair of binoculars, in order to more closely examine the other soldiers. They were armed with AK-74M's, the staple of Ex-Soviet military, with pineapple grenades and TT-30 Semi-automatic pistol.

The two fired upon each other with extreme prejudice, men on both sides falling and already a slew of bodies littering the ground. "Take cover!" a rebel yelled, spying a mercenary raising an RPG to his shoulder, depressing the release. A plume of smoke shot back from the cylinder as the rocket propelled to their adversaries, impacting in a ball of flame and taking down several infantrymen.

The PARC soldiers retaliated, peppering the man who wielded the RPG with countless rounds, then proceeding to return fire to his comrades, several of whom crumpled to the floor as the remaining ducked behind cover. Snake watched the slaughter from the sidelines, his trigger finger itching to assist the PARC soldiers despite his mission.

Over the constant patter of gunfire a tank broke through the Outer Heaven lines, a voice interrupting the warriors on both sides, stalling their trigger fingers. "Cease Fire! CEASE FIRE! Outer Heaven Forces, Halt Your Attack and Lower Your Arms!" The mercenaries complied, and reluctantly, the rebels did the same.

The command hatch of the tank swung open, and a tall, robust mercenary climbed atop the turret, standing with his arms crossed. He wore the same uniform as the surrounding men, a black bandanna replacing his mask, a winged skull imprinted on his crimson shoulder pads, the words "Outer Heaven Archangels" written below. He was armed with two sawed-off shotguns resting sheathed at his hips, a combat knife slipped inside its hilt around his forearm, and a chain of shotgun rounds wrapped around his shoulder. The man spoke with intimidating authority, "PARC. The Commander has had a change of mind. We wish to negotiate."

From between the rebel soldiers a young woman steps in, and though she looked young, there was no youth behind her war taxed eyes. She had short red hair, and a full officer's uniform, the only one with a uniform among the men. "Why, after all the threats of oppression we've received?"

"Because…", he began, interrupting himself with a call, "Archangels." The PARC soldiers stepped back, fear set deep in their eyes. Two figures walked around the tank, both of whom wore the same Archangel logo on their crimson shoulder pads. One wore a duster, complete with spurred boots, a Machinegun wrapped around his shoulder. Beside him stood what looked like a space suit. He was a thin man, wearing a white fireproof jumpsuit, with a heavy flamethrower resting in his palms. His wide circular visor reflected gold in the sun. The man continued, "… it would be so much easier for us not to have to kill you."

Soldiers behind the woman roared in outrage, their guns clicking nervously as she raised her hand to quiet them. Quietly, Snake turned his frequency to *140.85*, turning the knob to 'SEND', "Boss, these soldiers…The Archangels, who are they?"

*140.85* "They're a notorious lot. This little band of mercenaries formed with The Commander as their leader. His skill must be considerable if he has so formidable a force serving under him. They don't really care for currency, mind you. These are men who have already earned themselves all the money they'll ever need. They fight for war and only respect power. Their second in command is a man by the name of 'Shotmaker' who's known throughout the mercenary world for his skill in the use of his shotguns. He's a brilliant strategist and his own form of Close Quarters Combat is rumored to be unbeatable. 'Coward Mallard' though, holds the position of strategist among his fellow soldiers, concealing weapons and true intentions until the enemy has already been ensnared in their trap. "

"What about the one dressed like an old western?", Snake inquired.

*140.85* "His codename is 'The Machinegun Kid'. He's got an air for theatricality, and he considers himself a kind-of modern Billy the Kid. His Machinegun is a heavily modified MG43 light machinegun. I'd watch out for than one, his aim is impeccable. I'm told that he can make the same shot with his weapon of choice as a fair sniper."

The agent glanced at the man to the Kid's right, studying his helmet once more, its visor glinting bright in the early morning sun, "And the one next to him? With a flamethrower?"

Big Boss paused, then began, his voice crackling through the radio signal, *140.85* "'Pyre Trooper' as I'm told is as sadistic as they get. He loves fire because he can see his victims every fear, every terror as they burn. He was burned alive himself, the only difference between himself and his victims being that he survived the ordeal. If you asked me the scars on the inside are more gruesome than those you can see. No one has ever seen his face accept for his comrades. He kills anyone else who witnesses his face, or so I'm told. The final two are fairly new to the mercenary world. They call themselves simply, 'The Twins'. But they possess the most peculiar of abilities according to rumor. They are said to be psychically linked to one another, able to talk out a strategy and perform a plan in total silence. They of-"

Hooting and hollering from the rebel faction interrupted Big Boss' next statement, their leader raising her voice above those of her soldiers as she said with finality, "We refuse to stand down and allow such tyranny to continue in so proud a nation."

"You refuse..." Shotmaker asked, his voice teetering on excitement.

She slowly retreated behind the lines of her defenders, the mercenary wielding the flamethrower looking as if he was about to spring, only being held back by the steady hand of his duster-clad colleague. One of the PARC soldiers yelled in the silence, "We'd Rather Burn In Hell Than Bow Down To You!"

With evident relish Pyre Trooper broke in, with a synthesized voice still filled with sadistic excitement, "HA! Be careful what you wish for, It Could be Quicker Than You Think!" Battle cries rang out as bullets flew once more from faction to faction, only this time the Archangels were in the thick of it.

Shotmaker pulled out his handheld shotguns, swiftly letting off four rounds, and four respective bodies crumpled to the ground. The Machinegun Kid fired in spurts, forcing all those in his path to take immediate cover or die in a hail of bullets. But most shocking of all was the mirthful laugh of Pyre Trooper, using his flamethrower in quick spurts, lighting up adversaries mercilessly. Snake watched, his awareness of the consequences of war only intensified by the scene. He felt sympathetic towards their plight, but not enough to jeopardize his own mission.

As the Archangels tore away at their ranks, somewhere in the mass of soldiers a voice yelled, "EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!" "Retreat!" and all Hell broke loose. The PARC troops scattered in all directions, several headed towards Snake's position. Shotmaker climbed back inside the tank, the barrel rotating its way to Snake's general direction. _Holy Sh.. _Snake bolted, but not fast enough to escape the blast. The shell impacted somewhere behind him, something, maybe shrapnel, slammed into the back of his head, he was out before he hit the ground.

_Author's Note – Now I know what you're thinking, "That NEVER happened in Metal Gear!" but this is my Gear, and I find that it is a very good way to explain some of the upcoming events in the story. Both the NES and MSX versions of the game have great ideas. and so I've chosento include a version of Twin Shot in this, but don't worry,that doesn't mean I'm gettin' rid of the Helicopter._

_It is a little early but I am hoping for criticism on my characterization of the Mercenaries featured in this chap. What do you guys think of the title "Outer Heaven Archangels". I dunno, the heavenly theme just kinda resonated with me._


	3. Operation N313

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

_Author's Note – The "Boss" intro scene in my previous chapter was primarily influenced by the scene in act 1 of MGS4 when the B&B corp revealed themselves to Snake. I just thought It would be a nice way to make the readers anticipate the upcoming fights. And it actually worked out a lot better than I had planned. _

**Chapter Two – Operation N313**

**Mahalruit Outskirts**

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice broke through Snake's stupor, "Look, I think he's comin' to."

Something slapped Snake's face, further rousing him from his coma. A sharp pain in the back of his head striking like a knife as he bolted upright, drawing his hidden blade.

Two men stood in front of him, both in combat fatigues, one thinly built with dark brown skin and a bandanna wrapped around his shaved head. The other was a white man, well built with a thick mullet of blonde hair. He wore a flak jacket and combat boots, a medical bag wrapped around his shoulder. The men had evidently been expecting Snake's reaction, standing several feet away while the first of the two spoke, "Whoa! There'll be no need for that, man. Relax, we're friendlies, sir. FOXHOUND."

"Names?" Snake asked, reluctantly lowering his knife, but only slightly.

The second soldier addressed his partner, then himself, "Kodiak Bear and Bengal Tiger, sir."

"No, your names."

" Nicholas Myer and Jonathan Turner, sir."

"Good. Ugh," he groaned, his head suddenly growing worse with the abating adrenaline. " How long was I out?" He brought his hand to the back of his head, discerning no matted hair, nor blood on his hand, so the injury was in no way detrimental.

"Not long. An hour or so, sir. We found you among some of the PARC's dead. Apparently the Archangels aren't in the habit of checking their work."

"I'll remember to thank them for that later. You can cut the sir crap. We're not on base anymore, so Snake will do just fine. I don't want any respect I haven't earned."

"Yes sir, er, Snake."

*Call* Snake heard a beeping in his ear, "Just a moment," He turned the knob on his codec to 'RECEIVE' ,"Kept you waitin', Huh?"

*140.85* "Ah, Snake! When the transmission cut I was afraid you were captured."

"Captured?"

*140.85* "The insurgents who weren't killed were taken prisoners. They're threatening the PARC leader with her soldier's deaths if she tries to incite anymore violence among the locals, it's all over the South African news. They're calling it the Mahalruit Massacre. They could've just as easily apprehended you. Lucky that Kodiak and Tiger were nearby to pick you up. We might be able to use this unfortunate situation to our advantage."

"Sir?"

*140.85* "I want you to rescue as many prisoners as possible, Snake. We maybe able to elicit PARC's assistance in this matter if we protect their soldiers. They've got several agents in their employ on the inside of the Outer Heaven compound."

"So we've got men on the inside?"

*140.85* "Several agents, by point of fact. Diane Simetra is the first of three. She's been inside the compound for weeks mapping out the facility for our infiltration operation. It was her work that got Fox in earlier. She was the one who knew the location of the Metal Gear weapon. Her current frequency is *140.12*."

Snake opened his Codec memory, entering the code swiftly and asking, "Do the other contacts have Codec access?"

*140.85* "They do, but they change their frequencies daily. Diane is the only one who stays in constant contact. There is a second agent by the name of Kyle Schneider, a saboteur placed inside Outer Heaven's Special Forces Unit. He's a very skilled fighter adept in most forms of hand-to-hand combat, as well as skilled in the use of various weapons. He would be a most valuable addition to our cause. Once they've deemed you worthy to assist, he may serve as a second field agent. You'll have to find his frequency from one of his fellow soldiers. The other contact is a woman by the name of Jennifer Alejandra Libre. I am told she is fairly high up in PARC command. She is very knowledgeable of Outer Heaven weapons storage, and may be of some use if you are low in supplies... Snake?"

"Yes sir?"

*140.85* "I don't mean to put more pressure on you… but if you don't succeed in your mission…"

"The world as we know it will cease to exist."

*140.85* "Precisely… I have the utmost faith in you, Snake."

Breaking formality, Snake promised, "I won't screw up, sir."

*140.85* "I hope not... As I said before, If I weren't completely confident in you, I would not have sent you. Good luck." The ensuing static informed Snake of the ceased transmission, and he closed his Codec, _I can't have another mistake like in Mahalruit, not if I'm going to succeed._ Snake addressed his fellow FOXHOUND allies. "So what's the plan for entry?"

"We've been posing as environmentalists for the last week, taking samples of the Usango river periodically. You and I will dive to take samples, and you can 'get lost' up river to the stronghold."

"Sounds like a plan."

Snake sat in the small, aged vessel that was their research boat, rusted and sputtering down the Usango, Snake was confident no one would expect a United States espionage agent to infiltrate their defenses using such a piece of junk. John barely had to raise his voice over the engine's pitiful whimpers, "You'll be entering the water about two kilometers from the compound. They've got round the clock patrols but stay close to the bottom and the sewage in the river should be adequate to conceal you."

"Sewage?"

"Yeah, sewage." Nick turned the boat sharply to follow the river's curve. John turned around, pulling out a backpack and tossing it to Snake. Snake unzipped the package, revealing a scuba suit, a silenced pistol and several magazines of ammo. Snake stripped down to put on the suit while John filled him in on the circumstances of his insertion. "You'll need to be careful once you've gotten past the patrols. There are no boats, but they patrol along the edge of the river. They've threatened to shoot us on sight when we last came down here. They have several nets running through that river." Snake zipped up the skin tight suit, flexing his arms and legs to loosen the suit for proper movement, packing his uniform, Codec, and knife inside the waterproof rucksack.

Nick stopped the engine, the both of them pulling out various tools so that they may remain incognito. "Good luck," John wished. Placing his re-breather in his mouth, Snake leapt in the water. If there was anyone watching, Snake shouldn't be acting like he had something to hide. He swam quickly upriver, the vision in the water turning dark and murky.

**0635 Hours, February 5, 1995. Inside Outer Heaven**

Slowly, Snake rose out of the water, until he could sufficiently study his surroundings. A boat dock was before him, various ordnances in random stages of unloading. Tanks lined the walls, crates stacked to the ceiling behind them. There were no Outer Heaven personnel in sight, Snake made his way to a ladder, climbing silently onto the platform. He shook the water off of his rucksack, opening it and pulling out the Codec communicator, inserting it into his ear and turning the knob to 'SEND', "This is Snake," he said, slight pride escaping his serious tone, "I've infiltrated Outer Heaven."

*140.85* "Big Boss here." His commanding officer answered, "Well done, Snake. Remember, you've got three objectives. One: retrieve this Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar. Madnar is the Pentagon's priority as a man of his caliber in warfare robotics is difficult to come by, and it would not look good for US operatives to knowingly condemn an innocent man forced into such a situation. Two: locate and free our missing FOXHOUND agent, Gray Fox. We never leave a soldier behind, and he may know something about this machine we cannot anticipate. Three: dismantle their "Metal Gear" weapon by any means necessary. This is crucial Snake, you're our last hope to prevent another World War. We've included an experimental memory card which can hold several gigabytes of memory. It should be sufficient for you to download all of their weapon's specifications. "

"I'm no good with computers."

*140.85* "It's been programmed to hack and perform the download automatically. All you need to do is plug it in and let it do its magic. The process, however, will take several minutes."

"So I'll just be on my guard."

*140.85* "That's the ticket. Keep to the books and this op shouldn't be more than a few hours. Turner and Myer will be waiting with your ride out. Good luck, kid."

"I make my own luck."

*140.85* "Don't get cocky now, Snake… Good luck Soldier. Over and out."

"Commencing Operation N313."

Snake made his way across the deserted dock, passing dozens of open boxes, several of which bore the emblems of various military arms companies. Maul Weapons corp., Armstech, Kurt Industries, among others, were sprawled across the floorboards. Other crates had depressions inside, in the shapes of Uzis, P40's, and M16's.

Snake saw a bright yellow door, paint chipped and rusted, along the wall. He slipped through the door, and into a warehouse area. Crates lining the walls, this time in every direction, with tanks and crates hastily organized within. Snake only spied two guards in the room, both of which idly walked along the rows of boxes, their rifles limp in their hands. Ducking behind the boxes, Snake crept around the soldiers, rolling between rows when the soldiers had their backs turned.

_*Clang!*_ Fearing discovery, Snake bolted, running through a half closed garage door into a dark garage, filled with trucks all dissected in the process of repair. He hid behind the door wall, but no one pursued. Snake took the chance and looked, seeing a mercenary standing over a tank- hatch, yelling to his brothers in arms, "Damn! What is that smell?... Aw shit, that's rank." Evidently his cover had not been blown.

Snake hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he released it in relief. He examined the garage he now stood in. It was dim, with only a few of the overhead lights humming, producing just enough light for comfortable sight. Dozens of trucks, all in differing states of disrepair, were inside the garage. He walked around, examining the contents of the trucks more closely. Climbing inside the closest one, he found a box, containing someone's personal belongings. Snake found a Beretta M92F, as well as a personnel level 1clearance card, both of which Snake pocketed thankfully.

He made his way back out to the warehouse section, looking north to an elevator door. Checking to make sure no soldier would see him, he ducked behind the crates once more, creeping to the elevator, hearing the voices of several guards , _Probably the ones supposed to be guarding the elevator door_, talking near one of the tanks.

"I'm telling you guys, it smells worse than shit on a hot day in there."

"What're you talkin' about, Hils?"

"Go on, find out for yourself."

"Why do I have ta do it."

"'Cause I'm not the one who did it and I'm not gonna be the one to clean it up, whatever it is."

"Whatever Hils, y'lazy git." Several moments passed, and Snake had passed several rows of tanks on his way to the elevator. Cautiously, he walked to the doors, pressing the button to call the platform as the soldier's yell of surprise echoed through the warehouse, "Holy shit, guys! It's Hayes!"

Snake neither knew nor cared about their problem, stepping into the elevator and calmly pressing the button for the second floor.

_Author's Note – Incase you haven't already figured it out, the purpose of the "Smelly tank" was as a distraction for the guards, but that wasn't the hard part to figure. When Gray Fox kills a soldier in the prologue chapter, he stuffs the body in a tank, thus the "Holy shit, guys! It's Hayes!"statement by the other soldiers. This wasn't the most interesting chapter, which is why I thought a little humor would be appropriate. I suppose if I wasn't anxious to put out chapters, I would've waited to post my first and just combined the two, but alas, I do not possess so great a patience. _

_As before I have but one request for my readers, REVIEW! It has been a great help, as evidenced by the improvement from Resurrection to this fic. Thanx to all my readers, present and future and please enjoy! Up next: Chapter Three: A shocking turn of events._


	4. A Rude Awakening

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami_

_Johann, you wrote "C'mon dude I don't want to put any pressure on you but will you be updating this fic soon? the wait is Killing me!" Well, I hope I posted this before it was too late. Thx again to all my readers, I enjoy receiving your comments. The following is a post for music from youtube which I think fits quite well. The song is called "Sneaking Mission" from the Hideo Red Disc Metal Gear set. **just be sure to add the youtube dot com at the end cuz it seems to be temperamental on my file.**_

/watch?v=VyqwPoH_bp0

**Chapter Three – A Rude Awakening**

Snake cautiously stepped through the elevator doors, scanning the room quickly before he entered. It was a storage area, similar to the room below, only all the crates and boxes were stacked inside a large caged off area in the corner of the room. A camera watched the entrance to the room ceaselessly, pivoting to watch for any bystander without proper identification. Another strafed the wall to Snake's right, patrolling the path to two adjacent halls, boxes lining the walls.

Looking at the camera's lens, Snake saw a blind spot just beneath it against the wall. He pushed his body flat against the wall, waiting until the camera moved above him, he slipped beneath it, stealthily sliding his feet at the camera's pace, depressing from the wall after getting out of the camera's range. Slowly, Snake made his way to the hall, peeking past the corner to the sight of a single guard. He crept forward as the guard had his back turned, hiding behind a crate to avoid detection.

He dragged his feet lazily, mumbling incoherently to himself. He stopped, swaying left and right, shaking his head as if trying to banish the exhaustion from his body. The mercenary stretched, his un gripped loosely in his hand as he yawned. Again he shook his head furiously, slapping his face. Then all at once he froze, the gun dropping to the floor and his head lolling back in unconsciousness. His effort to stay awake was obviously unsuccessful, as Snake could hear the muffled sound of snoring behind the mask.

* * *

Pvt. Alan Bennet paced back and forth, to drive out away the feeling of sleep which threatened to overtake him. His urban gray and white uniform was itchy and hot, only adding to the misery. Talking quietly to himself, his words somewhat slurred,"C'mon Bennet, you can make it. Just one more… shift and some other poor bastard will take over. Then you can sleep on that nice soft bunk." He missed his bed right now. Ever since that FOXHOUND agent, _What was his name?.. Gray Fox_? Ever since he'd gotten inside the base Col. Catajé had every soldier at his disposal in double shifts, leaving Bennet with sixteen straight hours of thrilling high octane patrol duty leaving him in a mental state on par with a zombie.

What Bennet really wanted was to be with the Archangels, putting down rebellions lead by PARC. Instead he was stuck with guarding their prisoners of war on the off-chance one of them gets the idea to escape. Then exhaustion reared its ugly head, Bennet succumbing for a moment, closing his eyes for a moment until he slapped his face in panic, refusing to be caught napping on the job again. "ugh. why… why did i have to become a soldier. 'it's cool' john says, 'you'll see the world' he says. stupid… brothers…" He yawned, near dislocating his jaw before he closed his eyes. "maybe… i'll just catch a few z's… for… for a moment."

Moments after his mind went blank, a step echoed from behind him. "Huh, is it shift switch already?" he turned to be greeted by four knuckles across the head.

* * *

The sentry's body hit the floor with a thud. Snake shook his hand, sore from impact on the soldier's skull. He scooped the mercenary's gun up, and with no soldiers to deter his advance, Snake approached a door at the opposite end of the hall. It read "Detention Cell 2 F2". Snake passed the level one cardkey through the slot, disengaging the internal lock and the door automatically slid aside.

The room was dark and bare, a cold floor and a single door on the other side of the room. The only light sat in the center of the cell, and a man sat restrained to a chair beneath the glowing bulb, his blonde head looking up to study Snake. He was only a boy, seventeen, maybe eighteen, and his voice trembled with mingled bravery and fear when he said, "Back again I suppose? I still ain't gonna tell you anything!" He spit at Snake's feet. Three others sat against the wall, their hands tied and their mouths gagged.

"You might reconsider once you know why I'm here." Snake unstrapped his knife, slicing through the bindings restraining the prisoner.

He rubbed his hands, then said, "Thank you. How can I repay you?" Snake walked over to the others, removing their bindings and allowing themselves to remove their gags.

"Don't. Just stay out of trouble."

"But I can help you find the prisoners in the other cells." He pleaded. The other soldiers stretched, working their sore body from several hours of immobility.

"They're taken care of, don't worry… You're from PARC right?"

"Yes sir." Several men answered.

"Do you know any of your superiors' frequencies?"

"uhm… Kyle Shneider's." One of them replied.

"Not Diane or Jennifer?"

"Only Schneider's, but we're not authorized to disclose it… It's a security measure. "

Seeing no use in continuing the conversation he said, "I wouldn't want you to compromise your orders. I'll be on my way." He headed toward the door, pulling out the card when another soldier interrupted him.

"Don't go through that door! There's gas in that room. You're going to need a mask."

"A gas mask?.. Do you know where to find one?"

The soldier looked to the floor, struggling between his orders and his desire to help," Uhm… no… But Schneider might. His… His frequency is *120.79*"

Snake entered the frequency into his codec memory, turning the dial to 'SEND' and a gruff voice, black by the sound of it, answered on the other side, *120.79* "Who are you? We have no soldiers out on patrol. How did you get this frequency?"

"This is High Tech Special Forces Unit FOXHOUND agent Solid Snake."

*120.79* "One of Big Boss' boys? How did you get this frequency? Not even Big Boss has it."

"I was able to make contact with several of Outer Heaven's POW's, your men. I've been ordered to make contact with you. It seems we have a common enemy."

*120.79* "'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Quite right. Thank you for saving our countrymen. What of us is it that you need?"

"I'm in the second floor of Outer Heaven's research facility and I need to get past a gas chamber. I need a gas mask."

*120.79* "Should be easy enough. There's a riot armory nearby incase of prisoner breakouts. If there's a gas mask anywhere, it would be there. I believe it's in a corridor parallel to yours."

"Thanks. I'll give it a try." Snake ceased transmission, addressing the soldiers one last time, "Take this," handing them the sleeping guard's gun, he continued, "Don't let any of their soldiers see you. You do and no one is coming to get you this time. Watch out for the cameras, they have a blind spot just beneath them."

The soldiers nodded, filing out of the room as the man at the head of the group checked the gun for ammunition. Snake followed from behind, following the hallway straight forward rather than turning left in the direction he had come. Passing several more crate stacks to a corner in the hallway, the shine of a flashlight reflecting on the wall. A guard patrolled on the other side.

The light passed out of sight as the sentry turned around, giving Snake the opportunity to Sneak behind. He wrapped his arms tightly around the man's neck, turning his body around and swiftly kneeing him in the gut. The soldier grunted, keeling over to the floor, gasping in a vain attempt to breath. He quieted, out like a light. The door he was guarding was close by, a Level One security door. The doors light flashed green, giving way to the agent's entry into the riot armory.

Riot shields, body armor, and batons lined the walls. Snake grabbed a set of body armor, placing it back on the rack when he decided it was too noisy for stealth. Snake spied gas canisters across the room, and right next to them the equipment to use them, _Gasmasks._ Grabbing a mask and placing it over his face. Before exiting the armory, He grabbed several of the gas canisters and noticed a line of black cylinders along the shelves, recognizing them as silencers he pocketed four, screwing one onto the barrel of his Berretta.

Back in the cell room, Snake passed the Level One security card through the scanner, eliciting a beep of approval before the door clicked, allowing the agent to push it aside. It was a small hallway, a yellow haze hung low in the air, the poison gas which Snake was protected from by an eighth of an inch of plastic. Except for Snake's labored breathing in the mask and the hiss of gas emitting through the vents in the floor the room was silent. He passed through the room quickly, reaching the other door in moments.

Outside the gassing room Snake patted down his BDU's, removing any remnants of the gas on his clothing before slipping the mask off and taking in a deep breath. Snake dialed Schneider's frequency into his codec, turning the dial to 'SEND', the same rough voice answering on the other end, *120.79* "Ah, Snake. You were successful then?"

"I owe your men thanks for the forewarning."

*120.79* "They contacted me. They've stolen a couple of soldier uniforms and are on their way out as we speak."

"Can you tell me anything about the base or this 'Metal Gear'?"

*120.79* "While I can tell you plenty about the base, I know nothing about Metal Gear. All I can tell you is that it is a black project headed by The Commander and that anyone who's tried to find out what it is disappears. There are a lot of people around Outer Heaven who have no love for The Commander but fear retribution if they speak out. PARC means to change all that."

"Schneider… What's your stake in all this?"

*120.79* "I… I was an architect. I had a reputation for sturdy construction, buildings that were easily erected but impossible to destroy. I built the building for our real leader before he was overthrown by Colonel Vermone Catajé," He said the name with a deeply seeded disgust. "… in the name of the 'benevolent and honorable Commander of Outer Heaven.' They demanded that construct their base… and… and when I refused… they killed my wife… and took my child as ransom." Grief heavy in his voice, he spoke with shame, "I cannot believe that I gave in so easily… Any logical man would have known they would not have kept their word. I complied with their demands… I built their damned fortress, but they did not give me back my son… Since then I have openly defied their regime, taking any opportunity to strike a blow for the resistance. I built this vile place, and before I die I sure as hell am gonna take it down."

"A valiant goal if ever there was one…"

*120.79* "Until then I am content that I outdid my construction when I built the shelter for our resistance. Outer Heaven cannot find it, and even if they did they'd never get inside to capture our leader, Jennifer Alejandra Libre."

"A woman?.. Jennifer is your leader?"

*120.79* "She is inspirational! She talks of her mother and her grandfather before her leading the people to victory against oppression in the west."

"What's her frequency? Does she have a radio?"

*120.79* "She already knows about you… but she does not trust you yet. You're going to have to release more prisoners before she can trust you."

"What about Diane? She's one of your double agents in Outer Heaven. I was told she may know more about their weapon."

*120.79* "…It seems some of her family is being held hostage. She's in the base looking for her brother. She refuses to answer any calls until she's found him."

"I'll keep an eye out."

*120.79* "Good luck. Over and out."

_Author's Note: That took longer than I expected, but I'm quite happy with it. Go ahead and leave a review telling me your opinion, or don't if striking a few keys is too much effort for you. Jk. I'm mostly curious on how my readers feel about the sort-of return of my OC, the infamous Bennet. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed, I'm off to my next installment (I'll try not to take too long)._


	5. A Shocking Turn of Events

**Chapter Four – A Shocking Turn of Events**

_Author's Note: Just a clarification beforehand, My only real OC is Bennet, who I created in my last story, "MGS: Resurrection", however that Bennet was Jonathan Bennet. The one in this fic is his brother, Alan Bennet. (Although for all purposes their only difference is the name.)_

_Music to be played during the Snake segment – Hideo Red Disc – Sneaking Mission. Be sure to add http:/youtube to the beginning of the address._

_.com/watch?v=8WMnec63AmQ_

**0734 Hours, February 5, 1995**

_Ugh… So c-cold… Where am I? Ow… my head._ Bennet's head was unbelievably sore, like he'd been hit straight on by a truck at highway speeds. He tried weakly to remember what had happened. He could only recall the image of five fingers curled into a fist, brutally slamming into his face. _Someone attacked me?_ But who could've attacked him. It didn't make any sense, unless,_ A prisoner? Did someone escape? _Bennet stirred, opening his eyes. "Aaah!" _My Uniform! Where'd it go!_He was stripped down to nothing but his boxers, his equipment and passes missing, leaving him nothing but his dogtags and undies.

The soldier stood, rushing to the prisoner's cells, frantically tapping an emergency code and failing several times in his fervor before thrusting open the door and revealing… _Nothing_. "Oh Shit!"

Bennet ran to a security box on the other side of the cell room, pressing the alert button, setting off klaxons all over the floor.

Three soldiers barreled through the doors, gas masks tight on their faces. On sight of Bennet one of them shouted, "Intruder!"

Bennet's eyes widened in fear. He held his arms in front of him in a vain attempt to protect himself, "No wait! It's ME! I-" but he never finished, the force equivalent to several linebackers tackling him at once, taking him down in an instant with unrestrained force.

"You let the prisoners get away?"Colonel Catajé's voice rang with anger. He was an intimidating man, with military cut short blonde-graying hair, and a black Outer Heaven uniform denoting him as the High Colonel of The Commander's military. A belt of pistol rounds wrapped around his shoulder, all for the two Colt Single Action Army pistols, one of which spun in his left hand, a distraction from his anger. His back was facing Pvt. Bennet, an arrangement which the soldier was thankful for, considering the present circumstances. The Colonel continued, "Wait… What did they look like?"

The soldier he spoke to was wearing plain BDU's, all his equipment gone. His eye was bruised black and his lip was swollen, slurring his hesitant answer, "Uh, I… I bon't know, Colonel zur."

"What did you say?", an unusual calmness in his voice. Bennet didn't like the sound of it. Hot anger he could handle, but this was cold, focused rage.

"bey zurbrised me from behind, zur. I was bocked out, and ben I boke up, doze bamn rebels hab stolen my uniborm."

"So you mean to say that those PARC soldiers are walking through our security because of your complacency and your UNIFORM!"

"I abologize Zur! It bon't habben again!"

"I'll give you one last chance, soldier. You're going to the High Priority Prisoner block. Mess up this time and I promise you won't get off so easily."

"Thank you Zur!" Bennet brought his hand to his forehead, smacking his forehead with excessive enthusiasm.

"Get out of here." After the sound of shuffling feet died away, The Colonel turned to the welcome sight of an empty office. It was about time to report to his higher up, so he walked over to his radio, a special encryption frequency he developed for himself and The Commander.

After several moments of fiddling with the dials and switches, the static ceased, a scratchy voice answering on the other side of the frequency. *-:-* "How are affairs in Outer Heaven?"

"As good as I can expect, sir. TX-55's development is ahead of schedule, and the soldiers have just finished putting down an insurrection in Mahalruit territory. I miss the days when soldiers were disciplined. I'm surrounded by imbeciles."

*-:-* "I thought I told you not to act against the people. We don't want our own turning against us! It makes for a very unstable society."

"They were armed, sir. I felt it would be better for everyone involved if we made an exception, at least until your machine is finally completed."

*-:-* "Patience Adam. We're only days away from becoming untouchable. We will have nuclear weapons, the ultimate deterrent, and Outer Heaven will be a center for peace and a Mecca for those touched by war."

"Until then, however, we are vulnerable."

*-:-* You have Fox under control?"

"Yes sir, he's not getting out any time soon."

*-:-* "Well then I foresee no problem."

"What about this other agent?"

*-:-* "He's an amateur, a boy in a man's uniform. The Archangels are more than capable of taking care of the runt of the litter."

"…Some of the PARC rebels have escaped with our uniforms. Until they find the agent I'll be getting the Archs on the rebel's trail. They will be found soon enough, along with the intruder."

*-:-* "That's the spirit, have confidence. Everything is running smoothly then. I shall be there shortly. The plane is running late I'm afraid, a nasty squall over the Atlantic."

"A safe journey to you, sir."

*-:-* "I look forward to returning home."

* * *

A single camera guarded two doors to Snake's right, and a hallway echoing with enemy footsteps to his right.

Snake pulled out his level one security card, waiting for the camera to go. When it got sufficiently out of range, he walked over to the closer of the two doors, 'WEAPONS STORAGE', printed across the top. The door beeped a sharp, grating sound, rejecting his card.

Snake took a closer look at the door, 'LVL 2' in the corner of the mechanism. Glancing at the second door, he noticed that the second door required only first level authorization. He pressed his body against the wall, allowing the camera to pass before slipping through the door.

A single soldier sat inside, restrained to a chair, his mouth gagged. He looked up to Snake with fear in his eyes. Snake removed the gag from the man, who asked in a trembling voice, "Are you one of the Archangels?"

"Relax, you'll be free in a moment." Snake assured the hostage, pulling out his survival knife and sliding it through the rope binding the soldier's wrists. He was another child soldier, fourteen at the oldest. His dark hair was sweaty, the kid looked miserably hot in full uniform.

"Thank you, but I can't go anywhere."

"Why not?"

The soldier tried to get up, only to fall back in the chair, wincing in pain. "My leg," he said through clenched teeth, "It's broken." The soldier's pain passed, he looked up at Snake, as if he recalled him from elsewhere. "Are you FOXHOUND?"

"How could you tell?"

"There was another guy from FOXHOUND here earlier. You have that same look on your face, a look that many of considerable war experience wear. He said someone would be here for him, but I never believed him. Close call too, he was here only a few hours ago."

"I need to find that man. Where'd he go?"

"I'm not sure. He nearly killed a soldier bare-handed trying to escape, so I'd assume to a higher security cell… Is… is that a Codec transceiver? May I use it?"

"Knock yourself out," Snake removed the headset, tossing it to the kid, "what for?"

"My… Lieutenant doesn't have confidence in me… Might be worried. Just thought I'd let them know I'm okay."

Snake watched the young soldier, who turned the signal to frequency *120.33*, and turned on the transceiver. Luckily the room was quiet enough that Snake could hear the voice on the other side, a woman's, strong, defiant, and filled with anxiety. *120.33* "Steve?"

"Yeah, *cough* yeah, it's me."

*120.33* "Oh my, are you all right?"

"Don't worry about me, sis."

*120.33* "You've been gone, very probably dead, And You Don't Want ME To Worry? Wait… how did you escape?"

"Uhm. I.. I didn't. Not yet anyway."

Snake interrupted, "You think you can make it out on a broken leg?"

As soon as she heard it, the woman on the other line repeated, *120.33* "YOU THINK YOU CAN MAKE IT OUT ON A BROKEN LEG! ARE YOU SUICIDAL-"

Steve covered the earphone, berating Snake, "Now you got her started, great. Thanks a lot." He tried to cease her yelling about recklessness and rash action when the speaker went silent, then she asked, "Who's there with you? Who is that?"

"He freed me-"

Steve tried to finish, but Snake had already taken back his Codec, repeating the question back to her, "Who is this?"

*120.33* " Diane Simetra, member of the Provisional African Republican Coalition and inside man for the resistance."

"Solid Snake, High Tech Special Forces Unit FOXHOUND agent. I'm here to investigate the Outer Heaven 'Metal Gear' war machine. You're Diane?"

*120.33* "So you're the government boy? Thank you for saving my little brother. I know quite a bit about the Outer Heaven facilities. If you ever need any help, I'm the one to call. I owe you that much. Just promise me that you'll protect my little brother."

"He'll be safe."

*120.33* "I have your word?"

"I never break a promise."

*120.33* "Alright… Tell him I hope to see him soon. Thank you." The transmission ceased, replaced by nothing but static.

"Thank you, Snake."

"Stay here, okay? You can't make it out on that leg. Don't worry, I'll be back." Snake motioned toward the door, when Steve interrupted.

"Wait! There's a hallway up ahead, it's rigged with electric panels along the floors, an extra security measure they put in place so escaped prisoners can't enter. Rubber shoes aren't going to stop the shock either."

"Thanks for the heads up." Snake exited the cell, taking a mental note for the future. He dialed Schneider's frequency into the codec, turning the knob to 'SEND', "Schneider?"

*120.79* "Shoot."

"Do you know about an electrified floor on the second level of the research building?"

*120.79* "I'm not familiar with many of the defenses in place, but I do believe that one was installed there. It requires a special code to deactivate it."

"Is there any other way around it?"

*120.79* "Yeah… Yeah there is. You might be able to dismantle it manually if you could somehow destroy the power source. There's a vent too small to crawl through which leads to the generator… That's it! There's a new missile launcher specially developed by Pettrovitch, a Nikita missile launcher which can change direction. You might be able to find it on that floor in a weapons storage room." Having what he needed, Snake cut off the frequency.

It was the very room Snake had tried to enter earlier, only he'd have to find the security card before he could get past the electricity. Once again Snake heard the patter of feet, hinting that there were several guards ahead, one of which was bound to have a Level Two card.

Past several stacks of crates and adjacent hallways Snake came into sight of an Outer Heaven soldier, slowly making his way down the hall, his pistol resting in his palms. With his back turned, Snake crept behind, swiftly wrapping his arm around the sentry's neck, his other arm clamped around the man's midsection. The sentry struggled for a moment, then gradually quieted, passing out. Snake relaxed his grip, dropping the body with a 'THUNK', onto the concrete floor at his feet. He searched the man's body, among several rations he found only a magazine for the pistol. He'd have to search another soldier. First comes first, Snake looked around, spying a row of lockers along the hallway.

He tested the lockers, finding one unlocked and opening it for its new occupant. Stashing the body in the locker, Snake continued along the hallway, turning a corner… right into the sight of another soldier, a rookie mistake.

Snake stared at the soldier who stared back, mutually dumbstruck. Snake shook from the stupor first, landing a punch in the man's gut and using the distraction as opportunity to perform his prior ritual. He flipped the soldier over to the ground, restraining his arms and putting his full weight on the man's chest with his knee. Once again the asphyxiated adversary struggled but inevitably fell limp, and once again Snake frisked him for any valuable items. More magazines, a few questionable publications, a cassette player… and a Level Two card, just what he was looking for.

Back at the Weapons Storage room, Snake passed the card through the scanner, the door making way for the agent. Inside were racks upon racks of weaponry, generally small handheld guns, but Snake saw a very unusual missile launcher in the corner of his eye. He picked it up, examining the LCD screen which at the moment was blank. He pressed a button on the side of the screen and the electronics clicked, turning on to show what looked like the inside of a barrel. _"_A remote control rocket, huh?_"_ The idea seemed pretty wild, _What'll they come up with next? Robots that fight a war for you?_

Snake proceeded cautiously through the hallways once again, through the crate stacks and past the unconscious bodies of his unfortunate victims.

Snake could hear it coming before he saw the electricity. _'FZZZZZT'_ The air was charged, his hair stood on end, and he could hear the buzz of the volts through the floor. The floor flashed blue, jets of electrical energy arching across the floor, crackling and sparking in the air. Just as Schneider had said, there was a small vent inside the hall, open and large enough for a missile to glide inside.

Snake examined the Nikita once more noting the controls, four small directional buttons and two red buttons labeled 'A' and 'B', 'Thrust' and 'Detonate' written below, before kneeling and placing it on his shoulder. Depressing the trigger, the rocket propelled out of the launcher at a remarkably slow pace. Using the directional pad he steered the missile into the shaft, using the camera to guide him through the treacherous turns.

The missile jerked, forcing Snake to tap the d-pad frantically to correct for the instability of the remote-controlled rocket. The controller beeped, a red bar labeled fuel on the computer heads-up-display slowly depleting. 'Thirty percent fuel remaining.'

"C'mon," Snake coaxed, "Come on!" A light shined at the end of the tunnel, revealing the end of the vent shaft and the room containing the generator. 'Fifteen Percent fuel remaining.' The missile hovered into the room, the screen going white for a moment while the camera adjusted for the light. When the room was visible again, the generator sat in the corner of the room. 'Eight percent fuel remaining'. Snake pressed hard on the 'A' button, the thrust launching the rocket forward with what was left of the fuel.

Snake pressed 'B', detonating the warhead as the Nikita missile collided with the machine, the distant rumble of an explosion erupting through the wall, dust and smoke flowing back through the vent. The electric floor dimmed, then the humming voltage died away. The air quieted, its charge dwindling. Gingerly, Snake lifted his foot, placing it onto the shock plates, suffering little more than a static shock.

Snake passed the now harmless barrier, exiting the electric hallway into a large room, patrolled by several soldiers.

_Author's Note: In the original game there were two brothers, one of Jennifer and one of Diane. To simplify things and because I think It will allow for one more personal character rather than two really distant ones I've decided to combine them. For those of you who know the story, no spoilers for the other readers please. In my profile I've included links to my deviantART portfolio, where I've posted some boss concepts. I ask only that you not be too critical because I have only had PhotoShop for about a month. I will be posting more shortly. This isnt serious, unless of course there's someone out there who could actually help, but does anyone want to donate a computer scanner so I don't have to rely on my school?_

_Oh and Because Jennifer did not have a last name, I chose to give her one, but I did not think it would be good enough to just give her any name. I've named her Jennifer Alejandra Libre because I think it would be very appropriate for her to be related to Amanda, a character in the recently released PSP game MGS PEACE WALKER, because it would inspire both respect and honor._

_Hope You guys enjoyed the chapter. I will work hard to get the next one out soon. Please review, at the very least if you have not already. Up next, chapter Five: Looking For a Fox_


	6. Looking For a Fox

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami_

**Chapter Five – Looking For a Fox**

Snake crept through the room, covering behind rows of boxes. It was a large mail room, filled with boxes and several conveyor belts, boxes sliding across the belt for inspection by a soldier armed with an X-ray scanner. Two other men, armed with nothing but pistols, stacked approved boxes in the far corner of the room.

It was fairly dark, making it simple for Snake to slink around the soldiers, crawling beneath the conveyor. The rumble of the machine concealed the sound of his scuffling boots as well. The belt wound left and right, Snake slithering beneath right along with it. He finally reached the end, climbing out from underneath, when a soldier's boot rounded the corner of a nearby stack of boxes. "What's that?" Snake scanned frantically, diving into the first option he saw, _A Cardboard Box!_

He clamored inside, looking through the punctured handle to the outside. The soldier stood searching the general vicinity with a puzzled look. "What the...?" He shrugged, "Huh, guess it was nothing. I gotta lay off the calorie-mate." The soldiers footsteps faded away, leaving Snake to reminisce. Early on in his career he could recall searching through declassified government files, particularly about enemy technology, when he found a file on the cardboard box. Later on he asked his Commanding officer, Big Boss, about the peculiar file, and his CO's instant enthusiasm was obvious.

"_The Box is an essential stealth tool for the espionage agent. A good agent can hide in it, but a great agent can use it as an offensive weapon. Go ahead and page through that file you got there. You see that? That's a Box Tank, the single most cost effective, stealthy weapon on the market. They're even disposable, and the cardboard doesn't even damage the environment! They can be used to set off distractions or as decoys. The most remarkable warfare weapon there is, in my opinion, besides the atom bomb."_

Snake had never appreciated the box until now, when he owed the success of his mission to it. He climbed out, folding up the box quietly and placing it in his rucksack. Snake took a mental note to thank his Commander, and proceeded through a door past the stacks of cardboard boxes, into a presently deserted shipping area, letters going into addressed boxes for later distribution.

A single camera blinked green, strafing across the corner of the ceiling, guarding a single door beneath it. Snake was used to the routine by now, waiting for the mechanical device to turn away its line of site, and creeping beneath it, through the door to the inside.

Another prisoner's cell by the looks of it, but this one was improvised. Among the shelves and packages were two men, bound together and restrained to one of the shelves which was set in concrete to the floor.

One of them, squat with and intimidating glare, greeted Snake with a prompt "Who're you?"

"Name's Snake." He said, removing his survival knife, "I'm here to save your sorry butts."

"What do you want from us?" The other soldier whimpered, a tall lanky man, barely qualifying as a soldier.

"I want you to contact your CO, Jennifer, and tell her that I was responsible for your release." He said, running the teeth of the knife through the ropes.

"What's that gonna do for you?" the first one asked once more.

"I need your leader to trust me. We have a common enemy. I've been sent by FOXHOUND to take down this ragtag nation's new weapon."

"You mean 'Metal Gear'?" the squat one guessed, retrieving equipment from a desk nearby, apparently his own, and tossing the rest of it to the other soldier.

"Uh… yeah. How'd you know?" a puzzled look on Snake's face.

"We heard some guy talking about it. He nearly escaped, too. Took at least ten guards to take him down."

"That sounds about right. Where is he?"

"He's in a secret cell, but the only way you're ever gonna get there is by getting caught."

Snake thought a moment, inspiration striking, "That… That might just be crazy enough to work."

"Wait, what?"

"Wait here. You're too far inside the base to make it out safely. I'll be back."

"What do we do till then?"

"Stay put."

* * *

Like the child chosen last in a game of dodge ball, Bennet stood at the back of the line, a whole squad of Outer Heaven soldiers devoted to the purpose of guarding one man. _This guy must be some kind of a one man army._

This guy killed at least five soldiers, and that was after he had been caught by the Archangels. The thought of keeping an agent like that confined was terrifying, but to defy Colonel Catajé directly was simply suicide.

Bennet couldn't bear the thought of what would happen to him if he were to fail. There were rumors of Catajé's cruelty, a sadistic leader with the knowledge of a thousand tortures. Bennet never believed them himself, but they talked of skinning, suspension by fingers and toes, bamboo under the nails, Chinese water torture, even electrocution, among countless unmentionables.

After being stripped of his uniform and tackled by his own comrades, Bennet was determined to prove himself, though he wasn't sure how he could do that. His face was still bruised, but the swelling in his lip had abated enough that he could speak discernibly, a fact which he was very thankful for. Bennet had been speaking to a soldier with a natural lisp who assumed that Bennet had been making fun of him, and his head throbbed even more because of it. _Why me?_ To add to the misery his nose ran and he was constantly sneezing from lying on the cold floor in his boxers when he had been stripped of his clothes and dignity by those PARC rebels.

The squad which had been assigned to the secret cell was headed towards the intruder's confines, and was now making its route through the shipping section of the building. Boxes upon boxes upon boxes lined the walls, as if the weapons within were for reinforcing Outer Heaven's walls rather than tearing down the enemies' ranks.

Bennet walked on through the corridors, plastered with Outer Heaven propaganda geared to spur the soldiers in their cause. The other mercenaries marched in unison, with Bennet struggling to match the tempo from behind, constantly stepping on the heels of his brothers in arms.

Suddenly, a streak passed along one of the doors adjacent to their pathway, Bennet being the only one to notice. He stopped, "Wait, did you guys see that?" The other men ignored him, proceeding onward to their destination, leaving Bennet behind to investigate, all alone.

_What if it's one of the escapees? _Bennet thought worriedly_, Wait… This is my chance to prove myself. If I catch one of them I'll be set. Better yet, I might get the one who took __**my**__ uniform._ Resolved, Bennet raised his weapon, ready and anticipating action.

He walked slowly, lightly stepping to reduce the sound of his boots on the concrete. The room was deathly quiet, besides Bennet's wimpering, anyway. His gun rattled in his hand while he passed a pile of crates, barely registering the cardboard box at his feet, until his foot hit the cardboard, and an "Uhff," resounded from within the box.

"Aaah!," Bennet exclaimed, regaining his composure too late for intimidation tactics. "Who're you! Get out of there! Hands in the air, intruder."

A hand shot out from under the box, gripping Bennet by the ankle, and forcing him to the floor face first. The intruder tackled Bennet, slamming him in the face and confiscating his weapon, all the while the echo of footsteps soldiers could be heard as they approached.

His enemy raised the gun to the soldiers who approached, firing off several rounds to warn them of their peril. Jumping to his feet, Bennet ran through the basics of his CQC, placing his foot behind his adversary's leg, and shoving the man's body backward. He twisted his gun out of the intruder's hand, and Bennet's compatriots rushed in.

Their foe brandished a knife, disarming one of the Outer Heaven soldiers and holding the blade to his neck. From behind Bennet's attacker, however, a familiar voice warned, "Release the soldier or you'll be picking buckshot out of your back, assuming you could live that long anyway." Shotmaker, the Archangel's leader, stood behind the espionage agent, the muzzle of his shotgun jammed in the small of their enemy's back.

The man released Bennet's comrade and placed his hands to the back of his head. Relishing the power, Bennet took the butt of his rifle and slammed it into the back of his enemy's head. The man did not pass out as Bennet had hoped. Instead he turned to face Bennet, an angry look set in his face. It was only after several seconds passed during the man's approach and Bennet's cowering that a fainting look came across his face, and the man buckled to the floor.

* * *

Snake opened his eyes, still dazed from that butt-stroke to his head. His back against the corner wall, Snake could see that there wasn't much to his temporary home. Two locked cell doors and an iron bed were all that adorned the otherwise plain concrete room.

After getting to his feet, Snake walked over to the door, examining the electronic lock. It was a zero to nine digit combination lock, compact with no visible way to dismantle it. Very state-of-the-art. Snake gave it an experimental tap, a calm computer voice requested, "Please place your finger below the scanner for print identification."

There was no way for Snake to get past door security, so he'd have to get around it. Closer scrutiny of the ceiling revealed a rusted vent, several of the parallel bands across the cover already rusted to pieces.

Snake felt for his backpack, but as he had expected, it was confiscated. Luckily, however, they had neglected to remove his codec, which at that moment began to chirp. *Call* Snake leaned against the wall, putting his finger to the codec and turning the dial to 'RECEIVE'.

*140.85* "Snake," Big Boss' voice rang, "Is that you?"

"Yeah Boss, it's me. I've made it to the covert cell block. I let them capture me so that "

*140.85* "You mean… you planned this?"

"Precisely. I should be near Gray Fox's cell."

*140.85* "Now you're thinking like a FOXHOUND agent, Snake. Look around the room, you might be able to see-"

"A ventilation shaft. There's one directly above the bed."

*140.85* "I can't tell you how often I've used vents to get out of a fix. Good luck Snake, over and out."

The bed which lay beneath the vent was simple; a mattress on a bed of intertwined wire set in a metal frame, the legs of which were bound together because they were made from the same piece of metal bent so that it supported both sides of the bed.

Snake flipped the bed so that it balanced on the front leg-post. He leaned it against the wall, forming a steep ramp below the vent and stood back against the wall. He rushed up the incline, slipping his body feet first through the top bar while gripping onto it with his hands. Using the bar as leverage, he slammed his legs into the vent, snapping the iron screws and popping the vent off of the ceiling.

Agile as a cat, Snake slipped into the vent, following the shaft and examining the view from the vents below for his captured ally. The first vent held only a view of an empty prison bed, the very same view in the second and third rooms. The next vent didn't have Fox in it, but it did have the soldier that had struck Snake in the back of the head. As he leaned over a toilet, heaving, Snake could see the glint of a keycard in the man's back pocket.

"Rebels took my friggin' uniform, ugh." The Outer Heaven mercenary kneeled in-front of the prison toilet, spewing the meager contents of his guts into the grimy porcelain bowl. "WHY! Why'd it have to be the flu. First I'm humiliated, then I'm attacked, now this. Could this day get any worse? I swear, first chance I get I'm joining Renee back home." He grips his stomach, groaning in pain.

During the soldier's griping, Snake used the blade of his survival knife to twist out the screws that secured the vent cover, gently and silently placing the cover against the wall of the shaft and preparing himself to snatch the card. When the mercenary heaved, he ducked over the toilet, the perfect opportunity for Snake to hang down and pull the card out of his back-pocket. Unaware that anything had happened, the mercenary rose shakily, wiping his mouth with what was left of the toilet paper on the wall and stumbling out of the bathroom.

Snake hastily placed the vent cover back in place, crawling over it and proceeding through the vents. After several more minutes of searching, Snake found an occupied cell, a man lying comfortably on his bed, his silver hair a stark contrast to the dark camouflage uniform he wore, even when deprived of his equipment and weapons. Fox seemed relaxed, as if he knew how the mission was going to turn out. Snake popped off the vent cover one more time, dropping covertly into the cell to Fox's greeting. "David! So you made it. A little late, but it's always better late than never."

"Snake, Solid Snake." Fox had a puzzled look on his face when Snake had said the name. Snake would have asked, but if Fox wouldn't tell, then Snake probably didn't need to know. "Good to see you in one piece, Fox."

"Same here, for you I mean. There's no way the Snake I met back at camp would have been able to out-do me in my favorite pass-time."

"You and Master taught me well."

"So how do we plan on getting out of this joint? Last time I used the vents I came out and a gun was pointed at my head."

"First I need some information. What could you find out about the 'Metal Gear' weapon?"

"Unfortunately this isn't the first time I've encountered these machines. I'm surprised Big Boss didn't suspect it when he sent you on this mission. It's a mobile nuclear launch platform. A bipedal mech which can launch a nuclear missile from any point on the face of the Earth."

"You mean – ?"

"Essentially a nuclear tank with legs."

"That's insanity!"

"The threat is real! I don't need to bore you by going into details, but the US nearly fell victim to a very similar threat during the San Hieronymo Takeover. Infantry can roam the battlefield at will, but are both vulnerable and lacking in firepower. Artillery can inflict immense damage upon an opponent while resisting similar damage, but are at the mercy of the terrain. This new machine, this Metal Gear possesses legs which enable it to quickly traverse the battlefield, dealing firepower on a scale never before seen while effectively avoiding less sophisticated retaliatory fire."

"How could such a weapon be possible."

"All I can tell you about its development is that it was originally Russian, confiscated by the US after a secret op lead by Big Boss himself. This machine has had several incarnations, but none of them were successfully completed and tested. This Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar and an associate, Dr. Klijnikov have been studying the original blueprints, constructing the abomination and making it nuclear capable. It has a top speed of 110 kph, and it can carry two nuclear missiles at a time. At the moment the launching mechanism is still in development, but since I found it they moved the development lab to a new location."

"Outer Heaven isn't an officially recognized nation under UN policies, but with that kind of firepower they could demand for anything they need or want."

"That's part of their plan. As soon as Metal Gear is completed they plan to 'negotiate' for recognition and annexation of land they've yet to acquire. They're going to demand ten million US dollars, and if the UN doesn't give into their demands their going to bomb major centers of commerce."

"I need to destroy it before it's finished, then. A machine as complicated as this Metal Gear has to have a weakness. If we can find Dr. Madnar we can find out what that weakness is. It should be easy enough."

"That's what I said, and look what happened to me." He pointed all around to his present surroundings. "So how **do **you plan on making our jailbreak?"

"The guards gave me a key for good behavior." Snake held up a blue cardkey, labeled 'SECURITY KEY'. "It's a master key for all of the cell doors. I swiped it from one of the guards while they were upchucking in the bathroom. It's amazing how little even a trained soldier will notice with a little bowel discomfort."

Snake slid the card through the scanner, eliciting a beep of approval as the electronic door opened silently. The Prisoner reception room was very plain. Other than the doors for a few other cells and a large desktop computer, there wasn't much to this room either.

Two soldiers stood in the room, both with their backs to the door. Fox took out the first, placing his hand over their mouth and jamming his hand into their neck, hitting their pressure point, an instant knock-out.

Snake followed the other soldier who was making a bee line to the bathroom. Snake was about to take him out from behind when the soldier's helmet fell off and he turned to pick it up, noticing his assailant. He only had the time to yell, "Holy Shit! Not you again!" Snake rushed the guard before he even had a chance to raise his rifle. First he struck him in the stomach, causing the guard to keel over. Snake followed that with a punch in the back, and finished him off with a strike in the head to incapacitate him.

"C'mon," Fox directed, "Our equipment is through that door."

It felt good to have his rucksack back. Snake didn't feel so naked, so defenseless, with the familiar weight of his tools and weapons bound to his back. After a thorough search of his pack for any missing items, he found a small pill-sized device, a transmitter, which he promptly crushed underfoot.

Gray Fox was already suited up, his favorite machete in his hand while he stroked the blade, examining the machete's gleaming surface for any scratches, as if he would do worse to the soldiers than knock them out cold if they had damaged it in the slightest.

It must have been in satisfactory condition, because Fox sheathed the cleaver. Snake said, "Now we've got to go and find Madnar and his daughter."

"You've got to go find Madnar and his daughter. This is your mission now, Snake, and I have no doubt that you'll accomplish it, either. I failed, I'm just here to help. What do you need me to do?"

Snake didn't know what to say. To have a superior soldier asking him for direction was very unusual, especially when that soldier said that Snake could do his job better. He did, however, have a job in mind, "There are some soldiers who need an escort out of the compound. One is the brother of a very influential PARC member. I need you to retrieve them and get them out safely. They're on the second floor."

"Consider it done."

From behind, the click of a loaded shotgun warned that the two agents were not alone, "I'm not going to make as easy as you hope, Foxhounders."

_Author's Note: not much to say for this one. Only that I hope no-one's too annoyed that I put off the boss fight for a little longer. Aren't I a jerk? Anyway, visit my profile for some pics of the up and coming bosses, more to come soon. I hope to pump out the boss battle quickly, though lately my hopes haven't often come to fruition. Next to come Chapter Six: The Buckshot Warrior  
_


	7. The Buckshot Warrior

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami_

_Author's Note: After such a long time It's very refreshing to pump out two chapters in a week. Like you, I assume anyway, I was too anxious to see how this would pan out to put it off for a week. I've settled into a comfortable process of planning a scene, beginning the writing, scrapping the plan and getting an even better result than the plan. I did not intend the Shotmaker fight to end the way it does at the start, but I doubt anyone will be able to get what I really mean by that until I explain it… eventually. Mwahahahad!_

**Chapter Six – The Buckshot Warrior**

**0822 Hours, February 5**

Gray Fox was anxious to find his machete, the one thing in his life which held any sentimental value. He knew it was childish, like the young children he has often seen who carry their favorite toy around wherever they go, only Frank Jaeger was in his forties, and his security blanket was often the only reason he had made it out of some very sticky situations.

He was relieved to see his gear with the machete still sheathed, but he was not satisfied with its condition until his close scrutiny was concluded. Besides the blood that those Outer Heaven soldiers had inconsiderately left on the blade, there wasn't a mark on it. Fox sheathed the blade, it sung as it slid back into its scabbard, as if it knew its master had returned.

After David, No… Snake had checked his pack, destroying a tracking device that had been planted by those soldiers, the duo left the equipment room. Fox knew that Snake had no knowledge of his true lineage, and he doubted that Snake knew about the Big Boss's old codename either. After all, his codename had only officially been 'Naked Snake' for the duration of that one mission with his old mentor, at least, that's what Big Boss had told Fox. After that they changed it to Big Boss, only Boss wasn't so keen on taking his old mentor's title and only recently became accustomed to it. Fox wondered what kind of significance it must have had for Big Boss to pass it down to Snake

On a whim Fox removed his machete, cleaning the leftover gore on the blade from his earlier attempted escape from the base on the guard he had incapacitated earlier. Spinning and flipping the machete in his fingers before sheathing it once more, Gray Fox listened as Snake said, "Now we've got to go and find Madnar and his daughter."

Gray Fox corrected, "You've got to go find Madnar and his daughter. This is your mission now, Snake, and I have no doubt that you'll accomplish it, either." Though he was sure Snake didn't quite believe him, Fox meant every word, "I failed, I'm just here to help. What do you need me to do?"

Snake looked as if he'd been rendered speechless. After a moment, though, he did have an idea, "There are some soldiers who need an escort out of the compound. One is the brother of a very influential PARC member. I need you to retrieve them and get them out safely. They're on the second floor."

Fox remembered the soldiers Snake was talking about. The first one had been Fox's cellmate for a short while before he had been moved to the high security cell. The others were a pair of bumbling soldiers, one very tall, the other very short, who had tried and failed to help Fox in his escape. "Consider it done." Fox assured.

From behind, the click of a loaded shotgun warned that the two agents were not alone, "I'm not going to make as easy as you hope, Foxhounders." Though it was nearly imperceptible, Fox thought he detected a light Russian accent in the shotgun-wielder's speech.

They turned to face a soldier, by the looks of his uniform he was a member of the Archangels. He wore deep green BDU's, with a black bandana wrapped around his forehead. He wore black kneepads and crimson shoulder armor, a winged skull imprinted on his shoulder pads, the words "Outer Heaven Archangels" written below. He was armed with two sawed-off shotguns in his hands, a combat knife slipped inside its hilt around his forearm, and a chain of shotgun rounds wrapped around his shoulder.

"Heh, look who thinks he's Rambo." Gray Fox chuckled.

"I am The Shotmaker. By my comrades in the Spetznaz I was known as Odinvystrel, 'One-Shot'. My kills were legendary among my men. I've taken down a hundred enemies with these riot shotguns. Surrender, and maybe our boss will give you a swift and painless death."

Gray Fox was quiet, but he was also confident. "I don't think you realize who you're talking to."

Snake looked calm enough, taking in the surroundings for tactical purposes to gain any possible upper-hand against their opponent. Their room was small, filled with crates and shelves, a very cluttered room for a firefight. They had a narrow pathway for combat, boxed in by shelves on both sides.

Fox drew his machete, an excited ring coming from the blade, thrilled to face a worthy opponent, one who would not simply fall beneath its edge.

"Didn't your teacher ever tell you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?"

From the second Fox unsheathed his blade, his mind had taken on a machine-like efficiency. All his concentration devoted to combat. Nothing else mattered, not smell nor taste, not even minor pain. His mind was blocking out all distraction. His sight, his hearing, and feeling were intensified, the result of years of experimentation to achieve a 'Perfect Soldier'. He had become nothing less than a wraith. Null. His body tensed, and he assumed his battle stance without even thinking, muscle memory doing all the work.

Shotmaker raised one of his shotguns, depressing the trigger. Before the gun went off, Fox slammed the dull side of his blade into the barrel, the buckshot tearing a hole in the wood shelving. With Snake behind, ready with his Beretta raised, Fox leapt overhead, using Shotmaker's shoulders as leverage to land on the otherside. He brought his blade down to slice at Shotmaker's back, but the mercenary had anticipated it, bringing his shotgun barrels down to take the brunt of the strike without a mark.

"Hah! I was hoping I'd find out how good my shotguns are. Good thing I invested top-dollar on these babies. They weren't lying when they said these were indestructible."

Snake saw that familiar look in Fox's face. He wore a scowl he only used in combat. He hoped never to cross paths with Fox as a foe, because Fox would win no matter the cost to himself. Snake could see that in his eyes. He raised his Beretta, firing twice into Shotmaker's back while he struggled with Snake's ally. The bullets ripped through the uniform to reveal a bulletproof vest. The mercenary laughed again, his gun clattering once again with Fox's machete.

"They're this way!" Snake heard the rallying call of an Outer Heaven soldier, the echoes of footsteps reverberating to their room from a door at the far corner. Several soldiers, eight in total, flooded into the room.

"FOX! WE'VE GOT COMPANY!"

"TAKE 'EM SNAKE!" Fox answered, swiping the blade vertically, slicing through Shotmaker's uniform to the armor underneath.

Taking cover behind a set of crates, Snake opened fire on the entering soldiers, two tumbling to the floor, bullets in their guts. The others hid behind whatever was available, though one did not make a very wise choice. This one chose a cardboard box, not exactly the most bulletproof of substances, as his cover, which Snake took to full advantage. Snake pulled the trigger twice, blood spurting from behind the box onto the wall behind, followed by a cry of pain.

The five remaining soldiers peppered Snake's position, when one of the soldiers suddenly stood, a shotgun round gouged through his belly. He fell over dead, and the Shotmaker's voice rang loud, "CEASE FIRE, YOU NEANDERTHALS! This is my BATTLE! I shall take them MYSELF!"

With his concentration freed from the soldiers, Snake returned to the conflict at hand.

Fox had rarely faced a soldier of this caliber, he relished the skill he was forced to harness in this fight. Their was something familiar about Shotmaker's style. He could dimly recall the last opponent who had challenged him like this; the only man who had ever beaten him in a fight, Big Boss. Gray Fox spun, sparks flying when Shotmaker brought his bayonet to retaliate.

Shotmaker backed off, raising the gun to take another shot. This time Gray Fox ducked, swiping his foot across the floor and knocking his enemy into the shelves. The buckshot disappearing into the ceiling.

The Archangel recovered as Snake attacked from behind, jumping for a high kick at the mercenary's skull. Shotmaker ducked, avoiding the blow, and pressed a third trigger on his sawed-off shotguns, a three-edged eight inch bayonet detracting from the ends of both. He lunged at Snake, who grabbed a cardboard box from the shelves and shoved it in the way, the narrowest tip of the bayonets poking out on the other side.

Snake forced the box to the ground just in time, the cardboard eviscerated by buckshot through the thin paper.

Fast as lightning, Shotmaker snapped open his shotguns, inserting a round from his belt into each barrel as he exclaimed, "Congratulations! Never before have I had to resort to reloading my shotguns. Quite an accomplishment, I assure you." Snake lunged, but Shotmaker landed a fist under his jaw, followed by a kick which sent him staggering against the shelves.

The mercenary turned to face Fox again, meeting Fox's machete with one of his bayonets, using the other to lung at the sly soldier, forcing Fox to jump, one foot on each shelf to avoid the shank. When Shotmaker jabbed again, the agent jumped as well, landing the heel of his foot onto the shotgun's blade and slamming it to the ground. It shattered on contact. "Damn it! That was my favorite! You'll pay!"

Enraged, he pointed two barrels at Snake, pulling the trigger as quickly as humanly possible. Two rounds of buckshot exploded from the gun, grazing Snake's arm, the lead burning through his flesh. "Argh!"

Fox kicked the shotgun beneath his foot out of the mercenaries grip, into the air where his own hand could catch it. He fired the gun into the man's face, launching him into the shelves which tumbled like dominos to the floor.

"The Commander!" "Shotmaker!" "They Got Him!" The soldiers exclaimed, trembling in their boots. Gray Fox turned to face them, their soldier mentalities breaking completely under his brutal gaze. One ran for the door, but the others stood there, reluctant to open fire on Gray Fox. His blade flashed sinisterly, still clean of the usual gore of combat. One soldier fainted, the other four finally opened fire on this formidable opponent. Gray Fox's machete flashed and glowed, whirling inhumanly fast to deflect the fire of the Outer Heaven guards.

Two more soldiers fell, the deflected bullets penetrating their bodies. Gray Fox cut swiftly through the last two soldiers, their cries of pain falling upon deaf ears in Null's apathy. He was about to take out the unconscious soldiers when Snake's voice broke him from his trance-like state, "FOX! Snap out of it!"

His machete raised above his head, Frank froze, the Null left inside still managed to ask, "Why?"

"If you attack an enemy who can't defend themselves, you're no better than they are!"

He lowered his weapon, shaking himself out of what was left of the craze. "Yeah…" He agreed, dizzy, "Yeah, you're right. I- I'm not sure what came over me." His blade was crimson with life-sustaining blood. Fox stood, his eyes fixed on the machete a long time before he cleaned it this time on a nearby shelf, sheathing it.

Something was troubling Fox, that much was easy for Snake to see. There was a different look in his eyes now, war ravaged, like he did that a lot after an experience like this. In a desire to steer his ally's mind away from his dark thoughts he asked, "Even in training, I've never seen those moves. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"It was a lifetime ago… I was a different person then. I never liked war, I sure as hell don't now, but then it was just fighting to me. Another chance to challenge myself against an unnamed enemy."

He was silent for a while, interrupting his own quiet when he requested, "Promise me something, Snake… Never lose your humanity. Getting used to it, hell, that's unavoidable, but don't ever think of war as a game. You're taking actual lives with real value. War is our job, but war doesn't have to be synonymous with killing. It took me far too long to realize that, and sometimes…" he gestured toward the disemboweled body of one of the soldiers, "My old self still forgets that."

Snake took it in, sensing the severity in Fox's words. Fox walked off, into the doorway, his old charismatic charm back in his voice, "Don't worry about the hostages, I've got them covered. Just make sure I've got a pick-up ready for me when I get outside. My Codec frequency is *14.27*."

"Consider it done."

Frank Jaeger disappeared into the dark corridors of Outer Heaven. Snake dialed *140.85* into the Codec transceiver, activating the device and contacting his CO. Big Boss' voice answered from the other side, a deep rumbling in the background, *140.85* "Yeah Snake?"

"Gray Fox and I have made it out. Fox is rescuing a prisoner who's safety will be very beneficial to the mission. I need you to send a helicopter for extraction outside of Building One."

Big Boss paused for a moment, *140.85* "Nice job, soldier. Request granted. I can have someone there in fifteen minutes. Big Boss out."

Snake had one more inquiry to be answered before he resumed his mission, however. He dialed Diane's frequency into the Codec, repeating the rest of the process just as before.

*120.33* "Snake? Is Steve okay?"

"Everything is going to be fine, Diane. Another Foxhound agent is escorting him out. He's gonna have two other soldiers to protect him. I've gotten Big Boss' personal assurance that he will be picked up."

*120.33* "Where can I meet him?"

"His frequency is *140.27*. Give him a call for a rendezvous."

*120.33* "Thanks… For everything. Snake, I talked with our jefe, Jennifer. She's agreed to speak with you. She'll call you shortly. Now we're even, right?"

"Even, definitely. Do you know where I can find Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar?"

*120.33* "The Metal Gear Engineer? What do you want with him?"

"He may know a weakness I can use to my advantage against the Metal Gear. Besides, the doctor's being coerced by The Commander. He's holding the doctor against his will and threatening him with his daughter's death."

*120.33* "In that case, the doctor should be on the roof of Building One. Good luck." Diane cut the transmission.

Snake's next objective was to get to the roof. He walked off to find the elevator.

_Okay! So that's finished. I don't have much left to comment on this one. I tried to make this a blockbuster worthy fight and I can only hope that you feel the same way. Please Review!_


	8. Interception

**METAL GEAR SOLID: The First Encounter**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear 1)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter Seven – Interception**

_A recap of what's happened so far… Charged with rescuing fellow agent Gray Fox and destroying a secret project lead by The Commander and Colonel Catajé, Snake has entered the base with the brief help of two FOXHOUND Agents, Nicholas Myer and John Turner, and made contact with two __Provisional African Republican Coalition members, Kyle Schneider (Former Architect) Diane Simetra (Defenses Specialist) in an attempt to make contact with PARC leader Jennifer Alejandra Libre._

_Along the way to finding Gray Fox, Snake has freed several Prisoners, two of which were incapable of escaping because of their imprisonment in the higher security areas of the base, as well as a third, Steven Simetra (a valuable POW and brother of Diane) whose leg was broken, rendering him immobile. With no choice but to leave them behind, Snake promised to return later, after he had rescued Gray Fox from his secret imprisonment (an imprisonment he earned for an earlier escape attempt). _

_After allowing himself to be captured, Snake found Fox, who informed him of the Metal Gear's deadly potential as a Nuclear launch platform. As soon as they escaped confinement, the two confronted Shotmaker, The first member of The OUTER HEAVEN ARCHANGELS, the mercenary group behind Colonel Catajé and the mysterious Commander. _

_After the Archangel's demise, Gray Fox volunteers to escort Diane's brother Steven and the other two incarcerated soldiers out of the base for extraction, while Snake journeys on to the roof where Diane believes Dr. Madnar, the unwilling scientist behind the secret project, is being held. With Steven's promised rescue, Jennifer Alejandra Libre has finally agreed to speak to Snake, but has yet to make contact._

**0847 Hours, February 5, 1995**

Snake leaned against the wall of an elevator, which at that moment was ascending to the ceiling floor, where Diane had said that Dr. Madnar was being held prisoner. After placing a newly acquired enemy uniform into his pack, Snake tapped out a cigarette from his beaten pack of Lucky Strikes, an unfiltered brand, just the way he liked it.

Just as Snake finished his cigarette and the elevator reached the third floor the platform gave an unhinged lurch, throwing the agent to the opposite side of the elevator in the turmoil. The platform jerked and wrenched with metal screeching before going still, the whole room black save for a red emergency light in the corner which cast everything in a crimson glow.

Snake pressed the console in an attempt to spur the elevator upward. When the elevator answered with a grating beep and a flashing red 'OUT OF ORDER' light, he cursed, jamming his fist into the console.

First things first, he had to get off the platform before maintenance came to investigate. He had no intentions of going through all the work to get this far to be trapped by an elevator. Snake first tried his luck by prying open the elevator doors, only it turned out that they had automatic locks for just such an occasion. Snake examined the ceiling, spying an emergency hatch surrounded by black and yellow tape. He popped open the hatch, slipping through the opening and as luck would have it Snake found that the elevator had busted just beneath the third floor.

Because the shaft wasn't likely to have surveillance, Snake kneeled, dialing Schneider's number into the Codec radio. *120.79* "Schneider here. What is it Snake?"

"The elevator on the north side is busted. I need another route to the roof of Building One."

*120.79* "Yeah, Okay…" Snake could hear the ruffle of paper on the microphone, Schneider was unfolding the blueprints. "Okay… where are you now, exactly? What floor?"

"I'm in the elevator shaft, but I can reach the third floor."

*120.79* "Good… good. There's an elevator in the warehouse wing of that floor. It's south of your position."

"Thanks Schneider."

*120.79* "Wait. You can't just walk in. The corridor to the warehouse is guarded by a laser grid. You're going to need to get a pair of Infrared goggles if you're going to make it through there without being gassed."

"Where are the goggles?"

*120.79* "The laser grid hall to the warehouse is to the left. But to your right and down that wing is an employee preparation room where they equip cleared personnel with the means to navigate the grid. Go down that way, get a pair of goggles and your golden."

"Sounds like a plan. Any word on Jennifer's contacting me?"

*120.79* "Just be patient. Our jefe's a very busy woman. She will call shortly however. She understands the urgency of your need and the nature of your mission."

"Alright."

*120.79* "Schneider out."

Single man assassination or stealth missions came naturally to Frank Jaeger, who would jump at the chance for the thrill of the assignment, but he quickly realized that an escort mission was much more tedious, much more work, and in general much more of a chore. Though he traveled far ahead for the sake of preparedness, he was constantly anxious over the stealth skills, or lack thereof, of the two soldiers he just sprang from an improvised prison cell.

Neither one looked like they qualified very much as a soldier. One stood short and round with a permanent glower set in his face, while the other was tall and awkward, constantly tripping over himself and having a significantly more difficult time than his companion passing monitoring cameras. George and Lenny were their names, and they bickered like siblings.

"- Squat lower! The whole base is gonna know we're here the way you stick out!" George remanded, slapping Lenny with his hat to provide emphasis.

Lenny cringed, "Quit doin' that, George! Y'know I don't like it."

"I wouldn't have to do it if you had half a mind to do as I say the first time."

"I'm tryin'! If you would jus' stop-"

"The both of you shut it! I'm much more concerned about them hearing us than spotting us the way you two jaw," Fox hissed under his breath. The soldiers grumbled, but complied, silent as they made their way through the compound.

From recollection It wasn't long before the Frank and the other two reached the last prisoner's cell. Along the way they passed several guard posts, the bodies of comatose guards slumbering in hidden nooks and corners. Frank was surprised, however, to see how many Outer Heaven soldiers Snake had managed to bypass.

Though Fox never had much difficulty with it himself, he had found that rookies naturally had the tendency to take out anything and everything that moved with little consideration to soldier shift changes or where to dispose of the body. Eventually the rookies were bound to get caught. Yet Fox was forced to resort to this method to ensure that the others didn't get discovered. Frank laughed inwardly at the irony. The Perfect Soldier's first rookie move in a very long time, and yet he had no other option.

The Perfect Soldier was the poster-child of discipline. Fox's memories of those times were ages ago, but still there like a faded scar. More and more Fox felt himself distancing from the mindset of Null, and yet he always managed to rear his ugly head despite the hours devoted to psychotherapy and the continuous research.

Every time Frank entered combat he felt as if he were going back in time, meeting again every victim he had ever cleaved with the machete he still bore, from the Germans in Mozambique to the countless assassinations mandated by the CIA to cutting down Gene's enemies in San Heironymo, his whole life had been survival from one kill to the next.

Those years following his freedom by Naked Snake were his most redeeming, and yet his most lost. Taking away his given purpose had set him off-kilter. He was lost and confused, angry and sad until Big Boss had approached him to join FOXHOUND. Fox found purpose in training those men and true fulfillment in performing Boss' assignments. Big Boss' assignments were justified and reasonable, with minimal casualties and no need to take down witnesses. Unlike Gene, Big Boss didn't subject him to anything he didn't consent to, including those dehumanizing memory wipes which emptied him of thought or feeling. Any longer in that tank and Null was sure to have shattered utterly into a truly mindless and ruthless thing, indiscriminant of friend or foe.

The psychiatrist who first examined Frank all those years ago under Big Boss' order had diagnosed him with a plethora of mental disorders from Acute Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Dissociative Identity Disorder among others, all stemming from his lifetime of involuntary service. He even went so far as to theorize that the residual Null persona was a defense mechanism, seizing control because Fox didn't have the same confidence in his abilities now that he allowed himself to retain his humanity. It sounded crack-pot, but it seemed the most likely. Fox didn't feel the same ease in his thought process, as if the memories he now retained obstructed some path in the way of his combat decisions, and that feeling disappeared entirely when Null returned, as if he were never freed.

Fox couldn't have cared less about the shrink's diagnosis. After all, all their theories did nothing to change the fact that he was the way he was and there was no changing that fact. He wasn't about to let them stick a needle in him so that he could have a 'normal' life, whatever that was. This was his life, this was his 'normal', and he would live it in the hopes that the world would no longer need war even if he wouldn't belong in it. It was the very reason he stood where he did now, escorting two sorry-excuses-for-soldiers around.

Amid his contemplation Fox barely registered that he had come to the room which housed the prisoner's cell door. A single camera strafed above two doors to Fox's immediate front, an of elevator door to his far left. Crates littered the floor and created a barrier from the camera's vision, and a single soldier circled the barrier, periodically passing out of the lenses' sight.

After the guard exited the camera's range Fox moved in for the kill. Silently he crept behind the soldier, pulling his head back to expose his neck. In an instant Frank had drew his machete, lacerating the soldier's jugular and cutting his vocal chords. The enemy sputtered silently before thudding to the floor, blood flowing gently from the wound. _Only dead men can keep their mouth shut for long._

Fox had little interest in electronics, but it wasn't difficult to jam the camera's track with the pistol the soldier had been armed with, halting the machine and allowing safe passage for the crew. The lock on the prisoner cell door was labeled 'LV. 2', and after searching the guard with no result he had to improvise since he lacked a key himself. He slipped his machete's blade between the panels, forcing the box open to expose a multitude of wires and lights. Fox slashed through the electronics with a flash of sparks, the electrical hum from the door died away. Fox had only to nudge the lock open with his cleaver to slip inside. "Snake?" a familiar voice questioned upon his entry.

"Not quite," Fox answered, "But I am here on his orders."

"Gray Fox!" The dark-haired boy sat in the cell's corner, a solitary light suspended from the ceiling which lent a dark pallor to his smudged face. His uniform was tattered and bloodied, but most shocking was the unnatural angle his leg was bent to, a painful memento from his attempt to aid Fox in the desperate escape that earned the agent a cell in the high security prison. Fox flinched imperceptibly at the pang of guilt for the boy, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the crippling injury. Managing a weak smile, Frank said, "C'mon, we've got to get you out of here." He turned to address his comrades, "George, Lenny, we need to make a splint."

While the two searched the shelves surrounding the cell, a beep resounded in Fox's ear, *Call*.

*120.33* "Gray Fox?" a woman's voice, full of concern, asked. "This is Diane Simetra. I'm a member of the Provisional African Republican Coalition and inside man for the resistance. I was told Solid Snake had assigned you to extract my little brother, Steven? Is he okay?"

"Apart from a broken leg, and a few bruises, he'll live."

*120.33* "When did he sustain the broken bone?"

Fox's escape had been orchestrated nearly three days ago. Fox cursed under his breath, muttering into the microphone so that Steve would not hear, "Long enough for it to have to be reset."

*120.33* "Can you reset a bone?"

"Yeah... Yeah I know how."

*120.33* "I've got a medical bag with me. Where are you guys?"

"Second floor, East wing low security cells. The strafing camera has been immobilized but it's still operational. Stay out of sight."

*120.33* "I'll be there as quickly as I can. I've got an enemy uniform, so watch for me."

In the storage room beside the cell there was a desk stocked with all sorts of supplies, duct tape among them. He pried two boards from the desk's table and snatched the duct tape, quickly making his way back to the boy. Fox hoped that Steve had a high tolerance for pain.

"Clamp the hilt in your teeth," he ordered Steve, handing him his survival knife. The boy took it with a puzzled look, realization spread across his face in an instant as Fox continued, "George, Lenny, hold him still."

It hasn't been that long, has it?"

"We can't afford to take any chances. It's going to hurt, but it'll be over in an instant. Look away if it helps. We've got to make sure your leg set's straight."

"God Damn," The boy said with a muffled voice, the knife secured between his teeth. Fox gingerly lifted his leg, signaling for the duo to hold Steve still. Anxious, Steve closed his eyes as Fox took a deep breath, pressing down instantaneously. Steve's leg crunched and sunk sickeningly, his face pale with pain while his howl was stifled by the knife.

After the leg was properly secured, they had only to wait for Diane's arrival.

_

* * *

_

Why me? Why of all people, does it always have to be me? Am I cursed, doomed forever to endure being beaten, stripped, or otherwise humiliated? I didn't sign up for this. Whatever happened to all those beautiful women on the recruitment posters?

As luck would have it Bennet had been stripped of his uniform and his dignity for the second time. He woke up among the bodies of his dead and unconscious comrades in his boxers... Again.

He resorted to stripping the clean portions of several of his dead soldier's uniforms, creating one full set of BDU's before waking his fellow Outer Heaven guards. The other two soldiers who were still breathing ran off, leaving Bennet to deal with the carnage. It was then that Bennet discovered the body of their commander, the Archangel, Shotmaker. _Oh hell._

Kneeling beside the body, Bennet removed his radio, "We need Med-evac stat! Sec. Cell 1138!"

Suddenly, the body's arm shot out, seizing the radio. Shotmaker stumbled to his feet, his back facing the terrified soldier who swore in shock.

"Get me Pyre Trooper, Now!"

Bennet didn't know what to say, or how to react to his commander's apparent resurrection, "Sir!"

"What!" Shotmaker turned, exposing in full force the wound he had sustained in the skirmish against those FOXHOUND agents. His face's left side was gauged by several grazed buckshot streaks, and his ear was entirely gone. Dry blood had caked over the wounds and stained his uniform, giving him the complexion of a corpse. Bennet was too horrified to continue his stuttering, "Idiot!"

"Yes sir?" The Trooper's artificial voice reverberated through the radio.

"Warn The Kid and get ready for a fight! I've got a plan..."

* * *

It was almost comical how easy Sneaking had been inside a cardboard box. Sentries' eyes simply passed over Snake as if he were just another useless crate. He waited until the soldier had their back turned, then proceeded past them as easily as if he had walked past them in broad daylight. The real headache had been the cameras; very difficult to spot in a cardboard box. Snake had had to wait until they passed painfully slowly before he could pass safely.

It was fairly straightforward once he had gotten past the guards. He broke into the personnel lockers and borrowed one of their Infrared goggles and had made his way back, utilizing the box for the return trip as well.

He eventually came to a room where posts, each about a meter tall, poked out of the floor, periodically spinning with a whirring mechanical sound. Snake placed the goggles over his eyes, revealing thin long beams which stretched from one spoke to the next. several flashed on and off as the posts rotated.

"Damn." Snake had to be fast if he wanted to make it through the laser field. Crawling beneath the first set, he proceeded to contort himself so that he could slip his legs completely through. Snake stood, leaping over the next set of lasers and landing gingerly, waving his arms to maintain his proper balance. He came to a rotating post, which Snake rushed past as it whirled to assume a new arrangement. A final roll beneath the last set of lasers left him home free, standing directly in-front of another warehouse type storage room, inside of which was the elevator to get to Dr. Drago Pettrovich Madnar's floor.

*Call* Snake kneeled, turning the Codec dial to 'RECIEVE'.

"Snake here."

* 120.48* "You don't sound as tough as I had thought you would, Solid Snake. My name is Jennifer Alejandra Libre, the leader of the PARC resistance."

"You don't sound like the same woman I saw speak with the Archangels either, Jennifer."

*120.48* "Call me 'Jefe.' You're here to take down Outer Heaven's war machine, that much I know. What I don't know is why you contacted PARC."

"I'm a single man in a high priority mission placed in a warzone, I could use all the help I can get. The US wants to make a bargain."

*120.48* "Alright, you've caught my attention, Foxhound. What sort of proposal?"

"The US is willing to do anything to see that this 'Metal Gear' isn't field tested. We know you're not happy with this regime, and we'll offer any assistance and no opposition to your aspirations, provided that you aid us."

*120.48* "A symbiotic compromise, yes? Intriguing. I'll accept your terms, Solid Snake. Call me if ever you need any help strategically. I can offer back-up with my soldiers as well. Good-hunting soldier. Over and out."

Snake entered the door into the warehouse, this dimly light room however, didn't seem right. On the other side of the storage hall the red light of the only working elevator to the roof glowed dimly, beckoning to the FOXHOUND agent. Racks and racks of equipment and boxes concealed much in the silent gloom, and yet Snake couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone, hesitating to approach the door that was only too inviting.

Just as the silence became too foreboding, Snake could hear emanating from the corner of the room the faint clink of metal with the patter of rubber soles. Out of the darkness and into the light of a lamp directly above him entered a man dressed like he had just stepped off of the set of an Old Western film.

His scarred and stubbled chin was all that was visible of his face beneath the rim of his sun baked cowboy hat. He wore the traditional rancher's gloves and dulled brown leather duster, billowing all the way down to his spurred boots as he walked, the source of the metallic ping. His black leather chaps were secured at his waist by a thick leather belt, the buckle adorned with the same Winged skull that decorated his crimson shoulder pads, ARCHANGELS written below.

He flashed a crooked smile, a gold tooth glinting between his pearly whites. The man spoke a thick Southern drawl with a husky voice, even rougher than Snake's own, "Howdy partner. So you're the cowpoke who's been causin' so much ruckus." The cowboy pulled a Machinegun out from behind, hefting it in Snake's general direction, and the agent instinctively braced to dodge.

A smirk cracked across the cowboy's face as he broke out into laughter, "I ain't gonna shoot ya tenderfoot, at least, not yet! Ha ha ha! You just hold it right there and raise your hands out from behind… yeah, that's right, reeeal slow-like. What's your name, hombre?"

"Names mean nothing. I'd rather keep mine to myself." Snake could see no speedy way around his opponent, so he resigned himself to taking in the surroundings, a short breakdown of the combat environment for anything to gain the upper hand.

"Aw well, suit yourself. Was only bein' polite anyways. Name's The Machinegun Kid, an' I like to know opponent before I kills 'em, so it's a good thing The Commander is always so well informed. Solid Snake if I heard him correctly?" Snake's momentary silence was all the Kid needed for confirmation.

"Who is the commander? How does he know who I am?"

"Turn yourself in and you might jes' find out."

"As much as I would like to oblige, I'm afraid that that's not going to happen anytime soon." Snake could anxiously feel his time for analysis depleting, so he drew out the conversation with the question that naturally came next, "The getup is very authentic and all, but in the few movies I've seen a cowboy has a six-shooter."

"Those Pea shooters? Naw, accuracy is good, but speed is what counts in blitzkrieg. You and me, amigo, I reckon we got a problem," shouldering the Machinegun the man removed his hat and holding it to his chest, revealing messy matted black hair, roughly cut as if with a knife, and a scratched and whiskered face to match his jaw. He dug his hand beneath his coat, slipping out a small gold medallion in the shape of a star, 'OUTER HEAVEN" pressed into it. The cowboy continued, "Y'see Foxhounder, 'round these parts I'm law and order, the sheriff in this here town. I'm gonna have to take you in, boy."

"Not without a fight, you're not." Snake growled defiantly

Flipping the medallion like a coin and placing it back into his coat, The Machinegun Kid placed his hat atop his head, raising the gun and its twin as well. He chuckled, "Makes no difference ta me, friend. The Commander wants you 'Dead or Alive!' He don't really care, and dead is always more convenient fer me."

"Telling a man to go to Hell and making him do it are two very different propositions."

"Oh, but I'm a man of my word."

"Looks like I'm about to make a liar out of you."

"Ha haha! Reach for the sky, Foxhound!" He let off a spray of lead, hurtling towards the FOXHOUND agent.

_Author's note: FINALLY! my return from what felt like the netherworld of writing. Here's my chapter for ya! I really did enjoy making all the Kid dialogue, though it was kind of a chore figuring out how to make an interesting way to lead up to it. At this point I think Shotmaker is probably most comparable to liquid, always gonna show up when you least want him. As always please review. _

_Up next chapter eight - Western Gun with Flamin' Sun _


	9. Western Gun, Flamin' Sun

**METAL GEAR SOLID: The First Encounter**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear 1)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

_Author's Note - Here's a very exciting chapter, in my humble opinion. It's one that I couldn't stop writing And that I hope you won't be able to stop reading. Two bosses make an appearance here, a first for me. also **be sure to add utube to the beginning of the music links.**_

**Chapter Eight - Western Gun, Flamin' Sun**

Diane didn't take very long at all to reach the solitary cell. Fox had nearly attacked the woman, and had she not warned him of her wearing an Outer Heaven uniform, she probably wouldn't be tending to her sibling's crippling injury at the moment. She was attractive for a woman, at least compared to the few other women Gray Fox had experience with.

The PARC agent was shapely, with auburn hair and a kind face despite the deep set misery. Besides her uniform she carried a medical bag now set aside, open so that she could dig inside for painkillers and hydrogen peroxide to treat the child-soldier's cuts and the pain in his broken leg.

She worried over the boy like a mother more than a sister, hugging him on sight and berating herself for letting him get caught, "...I promise I'm never gonna let you out of my sight again. I had no idea what could've happened to you, Steve! You won't have to fight anymore."

"I want to fight to earn my freedom. I don't want you to win mine for me!"

"You're too young, Stevie."

The boy looked to Fox as if expecting him to convince his superior officer otherwise. "He might be your brother, but he has seen too much to simply wish it away. Steve is by no means a child if he has seen war. If he's anything like I was he hasn't been a kid since the moment he picked up a gun. He's gutsy, even foolish for trying to help me, but a hell of a fighter. You should be proud of your brother."

"I am. I just don't want to lose him to war like we did our parents. All we've got is each other in this upside down world. Jennifer taught us to value our freedom and to defend it where ever it is threatened. I'm just not as convinced as she is that it's worth a life."

"Your conviction is your own. You have the choice to prioritize the values that mean most to you. That is a central idea to freedom."

At this point George huffed impatiently, exclaiming, "We've got a base full of soldiers, probably aware that we are not in our cells. I suggest we save the chit-chat for later and hightail it outta here now while the getting's good."

"He's right," Fox admitted, "Can the rest of your brother's care wait?"

"We'll sti-"

"But I feel fine, sis!" Steve interrupted, eliciting a glare from his sister, who followed by pointing out his broken leg, "Aside from the broken leg, anyway."

"We'll still have to finish when we return to HQ," she finished, "But yes, he'll do fine to wait until it's safer. You did a very competent job setting the bones, Fox. Where'd you learn to do it?"

"I've had to set a few of my own injuries. Very early in my- er- career." Fox kneeled beside Steve, studying his splinted leg. "Can you try to walk on it?"

Steve stood warily, all his weight on his intact foot. Guardedly, he placed his splinted leg ahead, cringing as he set more and more of the burden on the fractured limb. The boy attempted to mask the grimace without success, shoeing away his sister's earnest support. He stumbled to the wall, leaning against the wall to ease off of his leg. Between gritted teeth Steve said, "I can't make the walk myself."

Fox motioned to George and Lenny, instructing, "One of you take an arm. We've got to get out of here as quickly as possible. Lenny, you watch our six. You have a gun, right?" He dug his hand into his deep thigh pockets, pulling a .45 ACP Glock pistol out and several ammo magazines. "Good enough."

"Good enough?"

Fox unsheathed his machete, flashing in his hand, admiring the flawless sheen before saying, "This doesn't run out of ammo."

Because of Lenny's height George slipped under his arm, helping the boy to stand upright. With Lenny in the back and Fox at the group's head, they followed the hallway back to the elevator. Taking care to avoid the active cameras, there was little else to impede their progress except, of course, the elevator itself.

"Damn!" Fox punched the console after the second attempt to call it, the red 'OUT OF ORDER' light flashing intermittently.

"Hold on," Diane said, "I know someone who can find us another route."

She fiddled with her Codec, the ring halting followed by a deep voice, smooth and cool, "What's the matter, Diane? I thought you wouldn't be calling me till you were home free."

"Stow it Schneider. The elevator's busted on the second floor, north wing. We need a new way down to the first floor of Building One."

*-.-* "You're going to need to take the stairs down. They're a short way farther down the hall."

"Alright, sounds like a plan. See you when we're outta here."

*-.-* "Schneider out."

The staircase doubled as an elevator shaft, massive in size and likely meant for the transport of large-scale armament such as tanks or transport vehicles. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the quiet of the shaft, unsettling for Fox.

He preferred soldiers, just easy enough to avoid and good indicators of whether the enemy was aware of your presence. A soldier generally drowsed in his station, unless a clear and present threat was nearby, in which case fear of their Commanding Officer and fear of the enemy served to wake them effectively.

As they made their way down the shaft, a dim echo of something foreign reached Fox's ears, the shuffle of military grade boots, worn by none of his improperly garbed comrades. Fox froze, holding his hand up to command the others to do the same. Sure enough, soldiers were slowly making their way up the stairs to the PARC rebels. Their stance and the sound of their footfalls indicated they had not noticed the rebels crouching behind the hand rails, and the FOXHOUND agent intended that they never be discovered.

Fox waited for them to pass directly beneath his position, soundlessly lowering himself between crossed beams to their platform, maintaining a firm grip on the railing as he shimmied along, catching up to the two slow-going Outer Heaven guards. Fox lunged, gripping the soldier by his flak jacket and dragging him over the edge. He fell screaming to his death as the other soldier turned in terror. After swiftly vaulting over the fencing Fox slashed his machete through the man's trachea, making short work of the patrol.

He waved to the others, signaling it was safe to proceed.

After they had made it to the first floor it was a menial task to make it outside the compound, heading South South-West according to coordinates sent to Fox via transceiver. The jungle surrounding the building was sparse enough for the group to see the sky as they progressed to the pick-up sight. Between the thick foliage and bugs Fox couldn't help but be reminded of the world he'd left behind. It was startlingly similar to Vietnam, his birthplace and own personal Hell-hole.

As a half-white Vietnamese-American in a typical racist society, he'd been sold into slavery, a non-voluntary participant in the Mozambican War for Independence only to discover he was perfect for it. RENAMO, a Marxist rebel faction utilized his skills against German-born soldiers so often they gave him the only name he can remember, 'Frank Jaeger', The Frank hunter, because of his unassuming appearance as a child of only fourteen or so. He could never, no matter how hard he tried, recall the name his ghost of a mother had given him.

It was only after years of enduring slaughter that Big Boss had found him, turning him into the nearest US embassy as a refugee. Yet the government's asylum didn't come without its contracts. The CIA seized him as an experimental subject, pumping him with so many drugs and gene therapy that he lost his obscure identity and earned the name 'Null'. A name bestowed upon him because of the dozens of other soldier children who received similar trials, none survived. They scrapped the 'Perfect Soldier Project' and deemed Frank an 'anomaly', as the report had said.

After he had been initiated into the FOX unit lead by the oppressive Gene, Fox faced off with countless nameless adversaries, until that fateful day when Big Boss brought him to salvation, beating him, for the first time, in combat and taking him to the US, where he recuperated and finally earned some semblance of 'human', Boss requested he join FOXHOUND, stating outright that it was Frank's prerogative to deny him.

The Gesture was meager, but it meant everything to Fox, who'd never made a choice in his as of yet less than worthless existence. With the choices laid before him Fox chose to serve in FOXHOUND, to work for the man he'd come to think as a father figure, and to do the only thing he was good at.

"Fox! I can see the helicopter."

The small dot of a rotorcraft hovered in the distance, the patter of the blades reverberating through the trees. Fox and the others rushed through the underbrush, closing in on a clearing where the helicopter could land. Just as Frank passed through particularly thick foliage, hiding the vehicle behind it, a boom resounded, eliciting the excited caws and chirps of various surprised exotic birds.

Fox rushed to the sight of the rotorcraft hurtling into the trees, burning as it tumbled through the air.

"NOOOooo!" Diane screamed. She ran through the trees, disappearing behind the green with Fox in hot pursuit, calling, "Diane! Diane! Slow Down!"

"We've got to see if there are any survivors!" her frantic voice answered him.

Ripping through the leaves, Fox broke through to ground zero, Diane just ahead of him, silhouetted against the red fire that cast everything in an austere and sinister glow. Steve, Lenny, and George broke in just behind as an explosion rocked the earth.

* * *

.com/watch?v=pUxkJ01nzq8&feature=related python's theme

"... The Commander wants you 'Dead or Alive!' He don't really care, and dead is always more convenient fer me." in his deep gravelly voice, the cowboy Archangel, The Machinegun Kid, chuckled.

Solid Snake made a swift reply, "Telling a man to go to Hell and making him do it are two very different propositions."

"Oh, but I'm a man of my word," The kid flashed his crooked gold-toothed grin.

"Looks like I'm about to make a liar out of you."

"Ha haha! Reach for the sky, Foxhound!" ripping back his AK-47's firing pin, he fired a burst of rounds at his adversary, and the agent bolted. Rounds pattered at the agent's feet but they never seemed to hit him. As Snake ran behind the warehouse shelving, the bullets issuing from The Kid's assault rifle tore through the stacks of cardboard boxes, concealing the agent behind a wall of confetti detritus.

Snake un-holstered his Beretta, firing between the boxes at The Kid, retaliating as he too took cover behind a set of iron crates. As he progressed against the shelving, Snake approached the next set, rolling across the floor for a new barrier against the cowboy.

The hail of bullets ended. Through the silence Snake could hear The Kid's spurs pinging. As the agent heard the Archangel drop a magazine the mercenary spoke, "Heh heh. I'm tellin' ya boy, there's nothing like jamming a fully loaded Kalash clip into a spotless Magazine well." Snake took the opportunity to reload his own firearm, taking care to leave an extra round in the barrel. Meanwhile, The Kid continued, "Now, where are ya' hiding, ya slippery two-face goodfurnuthin' Foxhound?"

_Clink-clink-clink_. Hefting his AK's The Machinegun Kid stepped away from his cover, both barrels leveled toward Snake. The agent ducked below the burst, retaliating when it subsided, the bullet cutting through the mercenary's hat and tearing it from his head, revealing once more the cowboy's haggard visage.

"My hat!" He exclaimed indignantly, "No one shoots my hat!" Opening the left side of his duster, he quickly dug his hand into the pocket, whipping a grenade out from behind and biting off the ring. The Kid held the explosive, cooking the incendiary while Snake raised his pistol. With a well placed shot his bullet pierced the cowboy's arm, shattering his wrist and knocking the grenade from his palm. Cradling his arm, the cowboy lunged for cover, barely making it as the ordnance erupted in hot shrapnel.

"Damn! No wonder Commander talks about you! You're a regular Frankie Butler! I wonder, though, how confident you'd be without that cover, eh?"

"You wanna try?" Snake questioned.

"I reckon not. Might get more than I bargained for. 'Sides, I still got one more ace up my sleeve." The cowboy was silent, the moments dragged on until the clack of his boots signaled his presence. The long barrel of a M63 Light machine gun peaked out from around the corner, followed by the excited hollering of the weapon's wielder. "I'll skin ya, Snake, if it's the last thing I do!"

Snake dove as the rounds shredded through his cover. He resorted to the army crawl as the lead still peppered overhead. In the din of the gunfire and the airborne debris The Kid didn't see him as he took cover behind a yet untouched line of crates.

Snake climbed out from behind the shelving, rushing the Archangel just as the soldier turned to take notice of him. The Machinegun Kid swung the barrel around, but to no avail. Snake kicked the gun aside, taking a swing at the cowboy directly in the mouth. He slipped a knife out from beneath his duster, brandishing it at the agent.

Narrowly avoiding the slashes, Snake parried with his own combat knife, several times slicing across the cowboy's arm. When The Machinegun Kid made for another swipe Snake seized his hand, twisting the knife out of the mercenary's palm. After the blade tumbled to the floor Snake placed his knee directly in-front of the cowboy's, thrusting hard enough to shatter Kid's joint. "Aargh!" He fell to his knees, Snake stood calmly before the kneeling Archangel.

"Any last words, Kid?"

"Only that I'd ruther ye not had the honor of my death." The Machinegun Kid lunged for his knife, plunging it into his own heart. "Ghah. Heh... heh... heh." The cowboy had a weak grin on his face, blood staining his teeth between pained gasps. "M-my... my hat. Please."

His hand stretched meekly to the leather hat that rested yards away, the newly punctured bullet hole still smoking. Snake snatched it up, handing it to the dying man who clasped it to his breast. "When you tell... your story, cowpoke, tell 'em... tell 'em I gave ya... hell. Heh heh heh... It wouldn't be a good western... if the hero lived to... have a heavenly life would it... I lived by the gun… Now… I'll die… by it… too.., " his breathing abruptly halted and his body went limp, silence pervading the room with the Archangel's death.

"When you're throwin' your weight around, be prepared to be tossed around yourself," Snake advised the unfortunate corpse.

Luckily the elevator door didn't need a keycard. Snake stepped in, pressing the button for the roof, on his way to Dr. Madnar and the key to Outer Heaven's weapon's destruction.

* * *

.com/watch?v=iuEAgGq3IAk&feature=related Fury's theme

Before Fox and his band of refugees lay the husk of an Mil Mi-4 'Hound' civilian helicopter, a fire roaring through the rotorcraft wreckage and spreading to the forested foliage nearby. The code on the side of the vehicle was American, definitely the extraction team.

Fox anxiously turned on his codec, setting the frequency to *140.85* and creating an outgoing signal. "Boss? The extraction's been disabled. I need another team here STAT." Nothing but static answered his plea. "Boss? Damn it!"

Diane uttered, "Oh no! That fuel... It's from a flamethrower, we've got to get out of here now!"

Out of the ruin climbed a single man, the pilot, his BDU's still smoldering with fire smelling distinctly of fuel. As Diane approached the soldier flames shot out through the trees, setting the pilot alight, screaming briefly before burning to the ground. Diane retreated behind the FOXHOUND agent as a terrible cackle broke out, an artificial voice like the manifestation of a shotty radio and a buzz-saw, somehow discernable into words, "HAHAHaHahaha! A little birdy told me you'd be coming along. I thought you'd like a warm welcome, so I made a bonfire. Do you like it?"

"You Monster!" Diane cried, the best chance for her brother's safety dashed with the lives of men who operated the helicopter.

"No, no. Not a monster, an artist. The people my canvas, the fire my paint. Or perhaps a prophet, cleansing sin from this world in the purity of fire." From behind the 'copter stepped a thin soldier, garbed in a starch white fire-proof suit, covered in soot and dirt from the mat black boots to crimson shoulder pads, a winged skull imprinted on the warrior's pads denoting a member of the Archangels. _Pyre Trooper!_

The soldier wore a helmet similar in style to a fighter pilot's, the burnt orange visor reflecting menacingly the reflection of the burning rotorcraft. A fuel tank rested on the combatant's back, crimson in color, also bearing the Archangel symbol. A hose lead from the tanks to a triggered nozzle resting Pyre Trooper's palms, the pilot flame dancing at the barrel's end, adding to the malice of the bayonet that rested at the end of the fire-gun's nozzle.

Soldier's flooded around the group, surrounding them to cut off any exit with their rifles raised and primed for combat. Fox's hand instinctively reached for his machete, "Nah ah ah!" Trooper warned, "No one has to lose their head, Fox."

"Not yet," Frank snarled. "The Commander's dumb, but he's not insane to have accomplished all of this. Why jeopardize all of that by employing an unstable sociopathic pyromaniac?"

"I prefer Pyrotechnics enthusiast myself. Pyromaniac make me sound as if I'm crazy. Ha ha heh heh! Our benevolent leader cares nothing for collateral damage, besides, I get things done. I'm very thorough with my art."

"Burning human beings alive?"

"They're hardly human. Those shit eaters walk around their villages with nothing to do but herd cows and walk five miles for their daily drink. Give 'em a gun and a grenade and they become greedy because they think they have power. I'm putting them in their rightful place. In my time as a member of Grenzschutzgruppe 9 der Bundespolizei (GSG 9 special police) I witnessed terrible atrocities committed by 'people' just like them. Now I'm going to purge them in the fires of Hell just as they deserve. I'm going to be absolved for what I've done, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy watching them as death claims their worthless souls in a Hellfire."

"Awfully cold, aren't you?"

"Fire can be very unforgiving in its raging fury." Pyre Trooper waltzed through the blazing foliage, passing casually through fire that would have burned through to the bone of bare flesh alone. The fire warrior's hand lightly, almost lovingly, caressing the burning chassis of the rotorcraft.

"Now I was told to capture you all alive, but I'm sure my soldiers wouldn't mind if I had a little fun. Your girl there ran, and I had to stop her. There'd be no contest." Pyre Trooper gestured toward Frank's allies, feigning a blast of fire, and chuckling under-breath. The others backed away to a safe distance with the Outer Heaven soldiers surrounding them, meanwhile Trooper continued. "Or... I could end this with you... one on one. right here, right now. The guards won't offer any opposition. I must admit that I'm anxious to see you in action. I'm told you were a sight to see in your glory days, but I'll burn you, no question." The Archangel now had the barrel aimed directly at the agent, Trooper's finger trembling on the trigger.

Fox's hand gripped his machete, Null withdrawing it as swiftly as inhumanly possible. The barriers in his mind vanished, the only relevant description of Pyre Trooper became simply 'Enemy'. Jaeger sidestepped as a ball of napalm hurtled toward him, standing calmly as the ball erupted behind him.

With absolute relish Pyre Trooper howled, "Get ready for a heat wave!" A stream of flame shot toward the agent, who bolted with the fire in quick pursuit. the Archangel ceased the stream, releasing another volley ahead of the agent. Fox leapt over the stream, tumbling into the wreckage of the now smoldering helicopter.

Tossing aside plates of scrap, Gray Fox staggered to his feet, his eyes settling on his adversary who's barrel was primed for another round of napalm. He didn't have the time to run. Frantically he searched, one of the helicopter plates resting at his feet. Fox seized the plate, crouching behind it as fire struck the metal sheet.

When the torrent ceased Fox rushed the soldier, attempting a swipe with his machete at the Archangel who met the blade with the bayonet, now glowing red hot from the heat of the flames. Sparks flew with spouts of fire as Pyre Trooper struggled to land a blow against Null.

Cheers for Pyre trooper and catcalls to Fox emanated from the crowd of soldiers, whose weapons were lowered or even holstered while they jeered or praised, determined by who was doing better in the feral clash.

When their blades crossed again the Archangel tore away sharply, knocking aside Fox's cleaver and leveling the flamethrower. Before the warrior had the chance to pull the trigger Frank twisted, bringing his leg up, crashing into the Trooper's helmet. Pyre Trooper stumbled away, a spider web crack now all across the burnt orange visor, desperate to regain a delicate balance offset by the two heavy fuel tanks.

Fox seized the opportunity to attack the unarmed soldiers. Vaulting over, he cut down the personnel who secured Diane, Steve, and the others, barking "Run For It!" It didn't take long for them to snap out of their surprised stupor and make for freedom. Fox cut down as many of the pursuing Outer Heaven goons as he could until Pyre Trooper regained footing, once again primed to hurl fire at the Foxhound agent.

Fox ducked beneath the fire, kicking aside Fire Trooper's weapon and slammed up on the soldier's head, just before he brought the machete's blade to his adversary's neck the familiar voice of an old ally interrupted Null's state of mind. "Frank! Stop!"

Fox broke through with a flood of memory, his machete hovering next to Fire Trooper's neck, "Snake?"

_Author's note: What Fox does throughout the story is very sketchy, non-existent in-fact. With his mission I hope that what I've written sounds natural, and that his musings are informative enough. Those facts will become quite a bit more important regarding his relationship with Big Boss in upcoming chapters. Pyre Trooper was a very intriguing character and in my opinion, one of Snake's better villains given the right writing. Pyre Trooper's also one of the main reasons I wrote this story, because the flamethrower soldier (The most BA boss in Metal Gear besides Shotmaker) was replaced by Pyro Bison in a previous fanfic and I feel that that was one very disappointing flaw. _

_I would like to thank my readers for reaching a new personal traffic record of 56 in one day, probably a decent achievement for a fanfic writer with one and a half stories, all of which are on the Metal Gear fanfic section._

_All anticipated reviews appreciated, _

_Rookies eyes_


	10. The Commander's Guest

METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter Nine – The Commander's Guest**

**0953 Hours, February 5, 1995**

Fox stood still, his machete gripped limply in his palm. Pyre Trooper staggered back, groping beneath the gleaming helmet to ensure no bodily harm was sustained by the agent's blade.

Fox, dumbstruck, stared at his old mentor, his adoptive father, the last man he would have expected to see half-way across the world. "Big Boss?"

"Good Work, Frank. Excellent job indeed, but I can't allow you to continue this charade." The old soldier stood tall and proud, a smoldering Cuban cigar jammed between his teeth, the same tattered eye patch he always wore concealing his war-scarred eye.

His short gray hair was secured by another artifact from his espionage days, a bandana that had supposedly seen combat from Normandy to Tselinoyarsk, to Vietnam and Costa Rica. It had witnessed the deaths of hundreds of combatants at the hands of its bearer. He was garbed in the gray BDU's he always wore in combat and war games, taken by him as a war trophy after The Boss' defection.

He wore them so frequently that rumors around FOXHOUND whispered that the uniform granted silent steps, though Fox almost always heard the soldier's approach. They also thought that his bandana conjured infinite ammo. Soldiers, and people in general, often cling to superstition to explain the remarkable, and Big Boss was, by the very definition, remarkable.

The details Frank saw caught him off-guard; a black arm band embroidered with a skull, an M1911A1 Silenced pistol crossed with a heavily modified XM16E1, the coat-of-arms of Outer Heaven in the backdrop. Fox recognized the XM16 as Big Boss' famed 'Patriot', the same assault rifle he now grasped at his side.

"What do we do with him, Boss?" Pyre Trooper questioned.

"Stay out of this, Pyra. Warn the Twins. If Fox is here we know where the other FOXHOUND is headed. Apprehend those prisoners!" _I hope they made it_, Fox prayed fearfully. His attempt to take down the soldiers who restrained them was not as thorough as he would have preferred. If he had had his way they would all have been soaking the soil with their blood, including Pyre Trooper. Upon Big Boss' orders the Archangel bustled off to find the pursuing unit, the shuffling and clunking of heavy equipment dissipating with the soldier's footsteps.

"You're the Commander," Fox stated more than questioned.

"Well done, Fox. You and Snake have accomplished far more than I would have hoped, and much more than I wanted. If Pyre Trooper can't beat you I might just have to do it myself."

"My mission is to eliminate you, Boss. You may have given that order, but it's mandated by the CIA. If you run now I can tell them you eluded me, but I can't hold back if I'm going to kill you."

"You can try. I'm not going anywhere." The old soldier raised his rifle, pulling the trigger as Fox moved to evade the round. The lead grazed his waist, cutting through his belt, his sheathed machete clattering to the floor. When Fox's hand went to snatch it up, a bullet ricocheted off of the floor, sending his cleaver several feet behind. "I just thought I'd rid you of the temptation of cheating." he said, plucking the blunt remnants of his cigar from his mouth, dropping it to the floor and extinguishing it beneath his boot. Big Boss widened his stance, raising his hands into his trademark CQC position.

Fox followed suit, mirroring his former CO with the very same moves he'd gleaned from Big Boss all those ages ago. His heart pounded, his concentration sharpened, but the Null state of mind didn't possess its usual clarity. Memories kept breaking through, which Fox watched as if an onlooker upon his own blurry, distorted recollections; a child soldier, weary of battle, carried in the arms of a young Big Boss to refuge; a youth, defeated for the first time in his memory, taking the soldier's hand, offered in acceptance; a FRELIMO soldier, rescued after a mutilating torture session perpetrated by the very organization he'd fought for as a child.

The thoughts dulled his reaction and split his concentration, realizing only just in time that Big Boss approached to make the first move; a kick to the head Fox managed to duck beneath. The agent thrust his fist to the Commander's gut, who parried the blows with his forearms, stopping the final strike with his palm. Boss had Fox by the arm. Instinctively Fox twisted, using Boss' grip as the axis to bring his foot to the soldier's head.

Big Boss had evidently anticipated this move. He clamped Fox's foot with his arm into his pit, throwing Fox to the floor.

"Work on your technique, Fox. You're getting too predictable."

"Age must be getting to you. You're starting to slow, old man." Fox muttered, getting to his feet and resuming the fight. As they exchanged blows Fox's frustration grew, barely managing to graze Big Boss' abdomen with the very edge of his knuckles. Fox's only consolation was that though he could not land a hit against the Commander for his skill, Big Boss missed near every hit because he couldn't keep up. As Big Boss lunged, Fox sidestepped; as he swiped, Jaeger ducked.

Fox feigned a punch with his left, following with an intended strike to the leg. Big Boss gripped him by the arm.

Holding Fox's right arm behind his back, Boss answered, "If I'm getting so slow, I'd better end this quickly." Big Boss bent Fox's arm far back, much farther than natural flexibility, even for Frank Jaeger. His arm popped, dislocated out of its socket. Gray Fox stifled a gasp, backing off for a moment, cradling his limp limb. Big Boss stood coolly, waiting for his former mentor to reinitiate the fight.

Every jostle sent a jolt of pain from his shoulder to his brain, so Fox bit the sleeve of his injured arm in an effort to minimize the agony, removing the belt from his BDU's with his free arm. Sweat dripped down his hair, now plastered to his head. He wrapped the belt around his afflicted arm's wrist, looping it over his head to create a slipshod sling. His arm dropped to his chest as he signaled for the bout to resume.

Fox raised his fist in a defensive stance as the soldier approached, blocking his every advance. Big Boss left his side exposed just long enough to hunch beneath his fist. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and this was certainly a time for desperation. Fox lunged, tackling Big Boss with his good shoulder to the ground.

With Fox attempting to restrain him on the floor, Big Boss, fists flying, nailed him twice across the face before vaulting his captor over his head . Fox landed on his feet despite his shoulder, wiping the blood from his lip as Big Boss scrambled to stand.

Big Boss' chest heaved, a stain of perspiration all around the collar of his uniform. His graveled breath rapid and deep, his bandana soaked and heavy. "Alright Fox, no more fooling around. Don't take this personally."

Big Boss swung, punching Fox in his already displaced arm. "Aargh!" He dug his fist into the agent's gut, picking him up and slamming to the floor with a thud. Fox's spine arched in pain. His eyes opened just long enough to see the black sole of a boot slam into his skull, followed by a complete lack of consciousness.

…

With a crippling headache Fox returned to the world gradually. The first thing he noticed was the course hemp rope that lashed his hands together, the second that his arms were secured around the back of a cold metal chair. His arm was swollen and sore, but the spiking pain had subsided and his arm moved with little effort, his captors had been kind enough to pop his shoulder back in. Fox's ankles were tightly bound to the chair's front legs. He was pleased to feel the familiar weight of the machete at his weight. He opened his eyes to two men, Big Boss and one of his cronies, a short, husky man in heavy SWAT-type armor, complete with a face-shield.

"… say we should kill him, Boss." The SWAT man said.

"That's why you're not in charge, Hawk." Big Boss answered promptly.

"Who's the cop?" Fox grumbled.

"Cop? My name's Hell Hawk. Smartest mercenary you'll ever live to see. You'll be happy to know we apprehended your friends, Foxhound. I get to have some fun with your comrades." He said with relish.

"Hell Hawk? Are you the one they call Coward Mallard?"

"You just insulted the wron- Hurgh!"

The Commander retracted his fist from Mallard's gut, "Shut it, Hawk. Wait outside." Big Boss instructed, "I'll let you know when it's time."

As the SWAT lumbered out of the room, Fox spat at his feet, eliciting a stream of curses before the mercenary slammed the door behind him.

Following a short silence, Big Boss turned to Fox, "Sorry about all this, Frank. This was all a ruse. When the CIA caught wind of my plans I knew they'd meddle in my business. I convinced them to let my men perform the investigation, and I chose you so that it would be irrefutable that I did my best to see that the job would be done. I had you captured on purpose so that I could continue my work. I still need to see The Boss' dream through."

Big Boss hadn't spoke often of his former mentor labeled traitor, but when he did it was purely of admiration, and of the desire to achieve her dream of a world without borders. "Nothing personal Frank. You of all people should understand that. My hands were tied if I wasn't going to give up Outer Heaven."

"Metal Gear was your idea too?"

"It's not at all what you think. In Militaires Sans Frontières, while you were serving with FRELIMO, we used a Metal Gear unit, codenamed 'ZEKE', to great effect in our own fight against war. Until a cipher agent, Pacifica Ocean, hijacked it, it was a very effective means of maintaining stability during a very volatile time."

"Mutually Assured Destruction."

"That's the idea, Frank. The Cold War may have abated between the US and Russia, but its effects are still being felt by those who dealt with the warring powers. We've finally established a country I can be proud of, and now, while we are at our most vulnerable, I need a weapon to preserve the peace."

"A contradiction if I've ever heard one…"

"But a necessary one. You know what I strive to do. You understand what I must do to ensure that soldiers aren't abused by their leaders or forgotten in peace time. My soldiers will fight for righteous causes the whole world over. We may be based in Outer Heaven but our army will be without borders, political or otherwise. It's no different than the work you do now." Big Boss held out his hand in a joining gesture, holding out for a moment as Fox gazed, making up his mind.

In the back of his, or rather Null's flimsy memory there echoed the voice of a long forgotten enslaver, _Just a puppet after all._

"No… No I can't work with men like your Archangels. I can't stand by and condone the slaughter of innocence. You know what their kind do. They'll trick you, just like you said Pacifica did and take Metal Gear for themselves, and they'll use it, no regrets. As long as filth like them is so close, I can't allow this machine to go operational."

"So be it. Now as I recall, Snake has some back-up from FOXHOUND, two soldiers based in Mahalruit. They'll get you out of here no questions asked. There's no sense in killing you, Frank. You'll come around to my line of thinking eventually."

"I wouldn't be so confident of that."

"I know you better than you think. Just wait." Big Boss opened the door, speaking to his croney, "Drop him off in town. Use this to send them a distress message." He instructed the SWAT, tossing him a blinking red device. "Oh, and make sure the dosage is enough to keep him quiet for at least six hours." Big Boss stepped out, replaced by Coward Mallard, a syringe in his hand. Crudely he jammed it into Fox's arm, and though the agent fought the blackness slowly returned, interrupted only by the humorless chuckle of the mercenary.

* * *

**Thirty minutes earlier…**

Snake stood on the roof of the complex; a floor littered with satellite dishes, power conduits, vent shafts, and radio towers. Hidden among the clutter was supposedly Metal Gear's creator, Dr. Madnar, imprisoned somewhere in a very unassuming cell mingled with the storage and expensive electronics.

The far side of the building was littered with steel beams and the bare skeletal frame of some unfinished structure. The incomplete portion of the building, a developing fifth and sixth floor, was temporarily concealed behind sheets of semi-transparent plastic, flapping and whipping in the wind that buffeted the building's upper half.

Further scrutiny revealed sentry towers on each corner of the building including the construction, dim searchlights resting at their post for nightly watch. Men stood inside each tower looking out over the borders, but the chance that they'd look behind and spot Snake was far too likely. The agent crept back inside the elevator, exchanging his FOXHOUND garb for the Outer Heaven uniform he had snatched following his clash with the Archangel Unit's Commander.

The patch on the uniform said 'BENNET', the same name printed on the ID card identifying the soldier whose uniform he'd stolen as Private Alan Bennet of Copperhead Platoon. Snake committed the information to memory, praying he wouldn't actually have to use it as he slipped on the standard balaclava.

The Gray camouflage urban uniform was slightly large and smelt like sweat, but Snake always knew espionage wasn't as glamorous as James Bond so he didn't complain, chalking it up to dumb luck, or lack-thereof, that he stole the uniform of the one soldier too lazy to bathe.

He discarded the batteries from the enemy radio to prevent any unnecessary interruptions, placing the ear-bud of his Codec into his ear beneath the cover of the face-mask. Snake turned the dial on his Codec to 'SEND', accessing the frequency *120.79* Schneider's familiar voice answered, "Yeah Snake?"

"There's construction on the roof of Building One. I thought you'd said you'd completed the building before you'd joined PARC."

*120.79* "I did. They're making additions to my design. Recon says that this new section is for Helicopter landing, maintenance, and storage. We've had our eye on them for awhile now. They've already begun using it and the addition isn't even completed. The weak security they have there is how we discovered their plans for the Metal Gear in the first place."

"Have you had a look at the layout?"

*120.79* "No. Not yet, but I'd be willing to bet that that's where they're keeping Madnar prisoner. It's out of the way, few would suspect it."

"I'll have a look around, let you know how it goes."

*120.79* "Good luck, Snake."

"Over and out." Snake terminated transmission, walking off the elevator platform onto the hot black tar roof with pistol in hand.

His weaving between the chutes and vents was slow-going as he did his best to casually avoid the patrols. The solar panels that hummed with energy blinded Snake as he passed the reflective mirrors, raising his hand to shield his eyes. In the blinding light, somewhere behind him a voice said, "Soldier, what are you doing up here?"

Snake chose to emulate the mentality of so many raw recruits he'd seen in training, raising his hand in a salute and saying, "Private Alan J. Bennet. I'm from Copperhead Platoon, sir. I was told to take the post of the soldiers watching Dr. Madnar's cell."

"Yeah sure. Let's see your papers, huh?" Snake removed his ID and a small booklet from the uniform's chest pocket, passing them to the scrutinizer, who squinted at them for only a moment before passing them back with a satisfactory grunt. "You know where you're going, kid?" he asked incredulously.

"I just transferred from Building Two. I don't yet know my way around."

"C'mon, follow me," the sentry huffed. "You'll get lost in there for hours with the way those construction workers seal off their work. Newbies don't have a chance."

As Snake followed the soldier through the rows of solar cells he heard the faint patter of blades cutting through the air. He turned to the distant sight of a helicopter, hovering above the treetops to the compound. The lead soldier said, puzzled, "That's odd. That chopper's not one of ours. There's an American code on the tail." _Fox's pickup._

Snake watched as the copter slowed, hovering in place before beginning its descent. Suddenly a shot of fire sprouted from between the leaves, engulfing the rotorcraft which tumbled to the ground in a chaotic pyre. "Nnn…" Snake bit his lip, jamming his white tight knuckles inside his pockets to conceal any sign of anguish. The soldier beside him was too busy watching as the helicopter disappeared behind the trees.

Quickly the agent regained his composure, just as the sentry turned to him, "I gotta go check that out. The prison is on the fifth floor platform. It won't be too hard," he assured, hustling past Snake and disappearing past the solar cells.

Snake took one last glance at the smoke that trailed from the wreckage, casting a red glow against the trees that encircled and hid the burning helicopter. He proceeded, pushing past the sheets of plastic into a large white concrete room with no walls, only more sheets that diffused the sun's light into an even glow.

Past industrial welding torches and hydraulic hammers Snake found a ladder to the fifth floor, advancing slowly up the rungs to muffle its ring until he raised himself onto the concrete. The Fifth floor was more cluttered than the one beneath it; Material bundles, tools, and equipment lay scattered everywhere at random; hazards Snake was careful to avoid especially because of their potential as alarms.

As he made his way past stacks of steel beams and crates of cement powder, mindful of the equipment, he came across a room which did not obscure the view of the outside of the world with a plastic tarp, a massive crane nearby. Obviously the opening was used for loading and unloading resources for the construction efforts.

The wind brushed Snake's face calmly as he gazed at the landscape of Outer Heaven. The rolling landscape was deep green, still, and quiet; tranquil despite the chaos within its fabricated borders. Across the terrain two other structures were erected in the distance; one a ten floor building similar in design to Building One, the other a wide, long edifice with a rounded top, most likely a hangar.

The small details were difficult to make out at such a distance. Building Two was far enough away that the forest which surrounded Snake's present housing dissolved into desert, a single iron-wrought, fortified gate at the border to separate jungle and wasteland.

Past the scenery the agent forged on until he reached the first sign of a prisoner hold; a soldier armed with a Scorpion Submachine gun and a pistol holstered at his hip, a ring hanging from his belt with a dozen or so key cards. Snake was certain he'd uncovered the prison when he spotted three doors behind the soldier, but cursed his luck when he saw the floor. The floor was tiled with metal plates, almost certainly electrifying, with the kill-switch console mounted beside the soldier.

Snake couldn't simply use the Nikita because he had no clue where the power source was, but he might be able to delay the guard long enough to kill him before he had a chance to pull the switch. The Foxhound walked out into plain sight, his gun at his side. The guard looked confused, confusion turning to recognition as he said, "Wait shift isn't for another … Unless… Intruder!" He reached for the switch but Snake was too quick on the draw; landing one round in the hand and a second behind the ear, the soldier falling dead to the floor in an instant.

Snake snatched the keys from the cadaver, walking over to the doors and meticulously sliding each card through the scanners, each time earning a red flash of light and a grating '_Beep_' of disapproval. Two doors later the light finally flashed blue, the entrance sliding open at Snake's request. Within the small eight by eleven cell slept a stout man; Einstein-like in countenance, with messy gray hair where he wasn't balding, wrinkled skin, and a thin white mustache.

Not one to waste time, Snake aroused the scientist with a sharp kick to the leg of his bunk, the startled Madnar jolting up with a "Who are you!"

Removing the balaclava from his face, Snake said, "Solid Snake. Special Ops, FOXHOUND. I'm the pawn they sent here to save you're worthless butt. You are the head of Metal Gear development, right?"

"Yes, yes, Doctor Drago Pettrovitch Madnar." The Doctor's eyes wandered behind Snake, as if looking for somebody, "Where's the others?"

"Others?"

"You mean to say you're the only one?"

"This one is much more capable than you think, Doctor Madnar," The agent growled.

The engineer tapped the tips of his fingers together nervously, stuttering, "Oh very well. Follow me. Before we have a chance to get out of here there are highly sensitive files I must retrieve. We must hurry."

"Are there any other soldiers accompanying your jailer?"

"No. I'm not much of a threat. They wouldn't waste men on a decrepit old scientist. Follow me."

For an old man the doctor ran swiftly, leading Snake quickly up to the sixth floor into the open air. He pointed to a Hind-D, saying, "They keep my files in there for quick transit when they take me to the development facility. I need the papers labeled '_Model Gustav_', '_TX-11_', and '_TX-22_'. If we leave them in the wrong hands, I fear for the world."

As Snake approached the chopper the engine roared to life. The pilot sat up from behind the dashboard, a man with slick white hair and a green eye, the other a deep blue. Snake turned to face the Doctor, only to see another man, identical to the pilot in hair and eye color, standing in the Doctor's stead, a mask hanging in one hand while the other lifted a grenade launcher towards Snake.

"You've may have taken down The Machinegun Kid but he's child's play compared to us. We are the Twins, but you may know us better as Double Tap."

"Funnily enough, I've never heard of either of you," Snake chuckled.

"Where The Kid failed we won't," He hollered over the patter of the now rotating rotorcraft blades.

"Like I haven't heard that one before."

"Go ahead and chuckle now, 'cause we'll have the last laugh when you've been shot through like a target at an archery contest."

The Helicopter buzzed off its helipad, circling around and speeding back toward Snake as the first member of Double Tap pulled the trigger, Snake springing aside to avoid the explosive.

_Author's note: This chapter is the first and one of the few real combined parts between the NES and MSX versions of Metal Gear. Double Tap is a combination of the Hind-D boss from MSX and Twin Shot from the NES. In my opinion the NES version is better in this respect. When I played the MSX version, though the Hind idea was cool, it was too ambitious for a limited system and it was kind of lame that the chopper never made it off of the ground. _

_Twin Shot was good in the respect that I think they recognized this fact and made a boss that is really quite unique in Metal Gear, two bosses which you fight at once, only matched by Ultra-box (Otherwise known in my universe as The Silent Knife Assassination squad). Their turrets could be explained as Anti-aircraft turned anti-snake, but I thought it would be a shame not to feature the Hind, especially in its first appearance as a boss. So I combined Twin Shot and the Hind by having one pilot and one fight Snake on foot. You'll just have to see how it ends in the next chapter…_

_For those of you who did not play the game, canononically (is that a word?) no one finds out that Boss = Commander until the game's very conclusion, but I thought this was a very appropriate way to have Fox removed from the equation so that Snake can show his full badassery and so that Pyre trooper would survive to have a bout with Snake. (That will be sooo epic – I hope)_

_Please comment. I'd love to know you're thoughts on my boss idea. Up next: Chapter ten – Fatality (working title)_


	11. Double Tap Out

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter Ten – Double Tap Out**

**1008 Hours, February 5, 1995**

"Where The Kid failed we won't," The first member of Double Tap hollered over the patter of the now rotating rotorcraft blades, piloted by his twin.

"Like I haven't heard that one before," Snake retorted.

"Go ahead and chuckle now, 'cause we'll have the last laugh when you've been shot through like a target at an archery contest," the twin threatened.

The Hind-D buzzed off its helipad, circling around and speeding back toward Snake as the first member of Double Tap pulled the trigger of his single round pump-action grenade launcher, Snake springing aside to avoid the explosive, imploding in a ball of fire and shrapnel shards, followed by a peppering of lead from the Hind's guns which barely missed the Foxhound agent in his attempt to avoid the grenade.

Tap ripped away his lab coat disguise, revealing a skintight camouflaged suit, almost skeletal, stiff plates arranged like ribs over his chest with an ammo vest laden with several grenade rounds.

The wild wind of the copter whipped around the fighters, Snake rushing toward the soldier, who threw his fists out in defense. Snake threw all his weight into a leaping kick, ringing Double Tap's temple with his heel hard enough to send the mercenary down, his limbs flailing as he rolled across the floor.

Snake was disappointed to see the grenade launcher still in the hands of his adversary, tethered to Tap's arm by a strip of leather. As the helicopter rounded for a second volley, Snake knew his only chance of avoiding the fire for sure was to stay in close proximity with the pilot's partner. As Tap rose to his feet the agent rushed again, drawing his survival knife from its ankle sheath.

Snake slashed left and right, Tap deflecting the short blade with the barrel of his grenade launcher. Despite being so close to Tap the Pilot fired anyway, the grappling warriors forced to split to avoid the hot lead. As bullets pounded the concrete Tap primed his grenade launcher, leveling it again at Snake, setting the gun off with a_ 'Ploonk._' Snake ducked, the round passing harmlessly above, feeling the concussion from the ordnance's eruption several feet behind.

"Damn it!" Tap cursed, "Quite squirming!" He pulled a bowie knife from behind his back, fastening it to the end of his grenade launcher as Snake rushed back. He brandished the bowie at the agent's gut, bashing Snake in the face with the cold hard iron of the barrel when the Foxhound recoiled. Snake recovered, smearing the blood from his mouth onto the sleeve of his BDU's, spitting the leftover onto the roof tar.

The Hind-D was closing in for another barrage when Snake decided to return the favor, slicing across the ground to trip the mercenary off of his feet. Tap fell backward, his skull colliding with a resounding crack against the cement. Snake kneeled on the Archangel, digging his knee into the soldier's gut and slamming his fist into the man's jaw.

Tap jammed the butt of his grenade launcher into Snake's belly, knocking the agent aside and throwing himself aside just as dust pillars sprouted from the ground from the impact of the helicopter's machineguns bullets.

Tap went on the offensive, shouldering his grenade launcher and detracting four knives from his belt, launching them in quick succession at the agent, who dipped and weaved through the razors. "C'mon! Take it like a man!" Tap demanded.

"Throw 'em like one, then," Snake retorted. Enraged, Tap seized the moment to reload his M79 launcher, failing to anticipate the Foxhound barreling at him in a full tackle, knocking him to the ground.

The patter of helicopter blades was getting dangerously close, signaling the Hind's return. Snake needed to make it count. He dug his knife into the Archangel's leg, who swore in agony at the blade's entry. The agent nailed his combatant twice across the face, lifting his head by the hair and finishing with a head-butt for good measure.

The Hind's guns blared, Snake scrambling off his adversary just before the lead peppered the ground. Tap desperately rolled, but he was not fast enough to avoid the lead, repeatedly piercing his body, blood misted from his body from the impacts. At one point a bullet must have pierced the grenade rounds placed in the Archangel's vest; his body was engulfed in a deluge of fire and shrapnel, several hot flecks of which grazed Snake's face.

Anguished cries came from the helicopter, "Son Of A Bitch! I'll Get You For That Foxhound! If You Think You're Gonna Have An Open Casket You've Got Another Thing Comin'!"

Snake searched the roof hurriedly, spotting the grenade launcher which had skidded to the other end of the roof in the blast. _Ratta-tatta-tatta-tatta._ Snake narrowly avoided another of the Pilot Tap's volleys, now strafing in the copter so that he could pummel the agent with as much ammunition as possible. The Foxhound sprinted, snatching up the M97, disheartened to see the barrel empty of rounds as he avoided the lead following closely at his heels.

Solid Snake couldn't keep avoiding it forever, His heart was pounding and he could feel his legs tiring. It was then that he spotted the steel mechanism that poked out from the fifth floor, just visible from the roof and long enough to reach the Hind, The crane he had seen near the false-Madnar's prison!

Snake dove down the stairway, the pain of the staircase nothing compared to the lead that could've pierced him, following the agent down the stairway. "Hah!" The Hind laughed, "This isn't over yet, Snake!" Against the sheets of plastic Snake spotted the shadow of the Russian gunship, tiny holes puncturing through the plastic with the patter of the gunship's weaponry. The sheets must've been clear enough, because the Archangel was firing too accurately for it to be entirely luck that his bullets were so close to the Foxhound.

The crane finally came into sight, set against the backdrop of Outer Heaven's countryside, much less tranquil under the current circumstances.

* * *

Double Tap pulled the trigger relentlessly, doggedly determined to shred his brother's murderer to pieces to his final breath. He could barely discern the Foxhound scum through the rain sheets the construction workers had placed, but he fired none the less with extreme prejudice.

The bullets tore through the sheet, making the Archangel's view of his adversary marginally improved as he could see the agent slide to cover behind one of the construction mechanisms. As he steered the Hind around to get a bead on Snake, Tap narrowly avoided the steel cable of a crane, protruding dangerously from the building, the very same machine the enemy was cowering behind.

Somewhere behind the crane a gun's flash was visible, the Archangel's focus now entirely on that portion of the floor. Dust and shrapnel flew where he concentrated his fire, tearing all beneath the man's gaze to nothingness. He gave a feral howl of satisfaction, certain that his enemy had been obliterated in the barrage. He didn't notice as the crane's hook moved in his peripheral vision, not until it was too late.

Tap screamed, the full gravity of his demise coming upon him as the crane's massive hook line collided with the helicopter's blades, snapping them to pieces against the cable. The hook slammed into the still suspended and now crippled rotorcraft, swinging it into the side of the building. As the ravaged husk of a Hind hurtled toward the fifth floor he cursed his adversary, all thought blotted out upon impact amid the chaotic crash.

* * *

The wall of dust and detritus that were flung through the air made the Hind impossible to watch, but the sound of shredded steel and ripping iron squealed through the air like nails on a chalkboard. Snake shook the dust from his Outer Heaven BDU's, his pistol raised from inside the cab of the crane on the off-chance of Double Tap's survival.

Snake was thankful the gas tank had not exploded on impact, a possibility he had been fearful of when he saw that the rotorcraft was hurtling toward the agent's floor. As the smoke cleared Snake spied the wreckage, the now thoroughly trimmed blades spinning aimlessly above the warped metal, barely resembling the gunship it once was.

The Foxhound approached the debris, his gun at the ready position, aimed directly at the pilot's seat where he could make out the crumpled form of his enemy.

The body gave no sign of life; his chest was still and his eyes were frozen. A moment to place his fingers against the soldier's neck confirmed this, and Snake only paused to close the Archangel's green and blue eyes. His present goal was aimless. He had no lead to Madnar and his present threat was taken care of, so when he gave one last fleeting look to the torn Hind, his mind wandered to the crashed copter he had sent for Steve and the other soldiers.

Snake dialed Frank's Codec frequency, *140.27*, "Fox? Fox can you hear me?" The headphone crackled, whining in the agent's ear with no answer to the call. Snake changed frequencies to Diane's, the receiver quickly answering, but not with the voice Snake had been expecting, *120.79* "Hahahaha! I wondered when you'd call!"

Snake quickly recognized the voice, "Shotmaker!"

*120.79* "Thanks to your buddy's aim I've lived to fight another day. We caught your little refugee team, Solid Snake, even Fox."

Snake heard the distressed yelp of a woman, _Diane_, "Let Diane go, Shotmaker!"

*120.79* "Or what? Haha ha! Listen, Snake. I'm itching for a rematch. Up there in the construction sector you should be able to see the wall separating the desert from the forest. I'll be there waiting at the gate. You have to go through it anyway to get to Madnar… Oh, and I'll even bring the girl."

"And the others?"

*120.79* "No way in Hell. You beat me you get her back, not the rest of them. They've gone to Mallard, and I'm sorry to say his hostages don't often last too long. Can I count on you to be there?"

"Don't you touch her!"

*120.79* "Ha! Too late for that! Pyro's pretty pissed having to chase her through this damn jungle. See you there. Bring firepower, 'cause you know I will. You have an hour. Shotmaker out."

The transmission ceased, static all that was left to answer Snake's angry expletives. There was no way Snake was going to make it through the base and across half of the jungle. His mind raced to think of a solution, when his line of sight happened to return the wreckage of the Hind.

Snake climbed through the pieces of blade, ducking beneath the spinning propellers and searching the cab. When several minutes of searching yielded nothing, the agent decided to check the pilot's body. Snake unbuckled the body of Double Tap, unceremoniously tossing away the cadaver once he had removed the parachute from the corpse. Blood aside, the parachute was entirely intact, a fact which Snake was extremely thankful for. Tap also had several grenades for an M97 which dangled at his side, which Snake quickly removed and pocketed, shouldering the weapon as the fire power Shotmaker had instructed for.

Several deep breaths later, Snake leapt off the roof, the chord releasing the chute which violently caught the air. After the initial take-off the float down was leisurely. The agent steered in a direction off of the main road in a desire not to be spotted.

_You know it's a trap_, the Foxhound agent lectured himself. This is what happens when there's too many men in a mission. Someone always gets caught. And now Snake was stuck with taking her out of the line of fire. Not that she wasn't worth saving, but had she not insisted on accompanying Steve maybe Snake wouldn't have to divert from his main objective.

Snake saw no clearings within reach of the chute. As his descent became faster and faster he braced himself for impact, his feet first to feel the branches and leaves nipping at his heels. Very soon all around him sticks were tearing at his clothing, the snapping of tree limbs and swishing leaves accompanying their grazing his body.

Then came the painful part; something slammed into the Foxhound's gut, forcing the air out of his lungs in a single gasp and halting his forward progress. Snake slipped off of the branch still clutching his gut. He snapped through several branches before the parachute was caught in the tree, dangling Snake tantalizingly close to the ground.

He took a moment to recover, and seeing no immediate threats alerted to his position Snake unsheathed his survival knife and severed the parachute chords, dropping to the forest floor.

With no time to lose Snake followed the trail to the forest-desert border, careful to avoid entering the road itself. Several times he passed roadside patrols, easily passing them through the brush. Insects bit constantly at Snake's neck and face, who paid little attention to them in his journey.

Very soon Snake spotted the long drawn walls of the border, constructed with tan stone blocks and heavy fortifications. As he came closer he could see the iron doors of the entrance left agape, and between the doors sat the prone form of a young woman, auburn haired with a thin athletic body and a distraught look set on her face.

Snake ran toward Diane, slipping his knife through her restraints. She tore away the duct tape across her mouth exclaiming, "Snake! We have to get out of here!"

"I know. Let's go, we've got to get to Building Two."

Snake lead her through the doors, the other side of the wall was forested as well, though not as thickly as the former side. The trees grew regularly for about two kilometers before giving way to the desert sands.

"Snake, they've got Steve and the o-"Just as they had made it completely through the entrance a boom echoed through the trees, not unlike the explosions which propelled far-off artillery, followed by the whistle of a heavy projectile.

"Get Down!" The explosive slammed against the wrought iron door, denting it shut and sealing off the two's only escape, "Diane, Get To Cover!" The PARC rebel scrambled behind the trees just as an M60A3 Patton tank pulled out onto the road, covered in branch leaves and bushes to camouflage it in the forested region.

_Author's Note: A very brief chapter in comparison to the others, mostly because even in the game it pretty much goes straight from the Heli to the tank battle. One thing I did not address in my previous note; Madnar wasn't on the roof in the original game. In the original story (atleast for the MSX) Madnar was supposedly in a courtyard on the first floor which you could only reach by jumping from the roof. This made no sense to me whatsoever, so I made what I feel to be an appropriate change by putting that cell on the roof. This way Snake wouldn't miss the Heli by just going through the courtyard and I could use the parachute as an excuse not to bore you, my amazing readers, with a overview of how Snake sneaks through the base (again) to get to the bottom floor and reach the wall/tank battle._

_This must mean my fic's getting fairly popular - I want to thank you guys for another daily reader record: 62 readers total reached march 3rd 2011. thx again_

_Hope you guys liked my MSX/NES Boss crossover between Hind and Twin Shot. As always all anticipated reviews are appreciated. Up next Chapter 11 – Capture the Frag_


	12. Capture the Frag

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter 11 – Capture the Frag**

**.com/watch?v=ViUAbYfYNxE – Tank corps from PW**

Snake led Diane through the doors, the other side of the wall was forested as well, though not as thickly as the former side. The trees grew regularly for about two kilometers before giving way to the desert sands. The Desert side of the wall was surrounded by the ruins of a former town, trucks disseminated throughout the area, stained in finely ground sand grit. Just as they had made it completely through the entrance a boom echoed through the trees, not unlike the explosions which propelled far-off artillery, followed by the whistle of a heavy projectile. "Get Down!" Snake barked.

The explosive slammed against the wrought iron door, denting it shut and sealing off the two's only escape in the fire.

"Diane, Get To Cover!" The PARC rebel scrambled behind the trees just as an M60A3 Patton tank pulled out onto the road, covered in branch leaves and bushes to camouflage it in the forested region.

As the Patton tank rumbled down the dirt road to the lone Foxhound agent the hatch swung open, the Archangel Commander poked out from the turret's armor. Shotmaker stood with a satisfied smile stretching across the remnants of his face. His visage was gauged on it's left side by several grazed buckshot streaks, his ear hidden beneath a thick square of gauze, maybe even missing. His deep green forest uniform was now stained red with the blood that had spilled down his neck. Shotmaker held one of his sawed-off shotguns in his hand, the bayonet extended while he polished it with a rag.

"Solid Snake," As he spoke, though his speech was clear, the left side of his mouth was lazy, less responsive than the right, impeded by the muscles torn by his own buckshot. "I saw your work against The Twins, fairly impressive. Though might I say, I'm fairly confident there are no cranes around for you to crash me into."

"I'll figure something out. A bulldozer maybe?"

"The Commander is very fond of you. He seems to think that were you not so righteous, you would lead our motley crew. I'm here to prove him wrong. You _and_ Fox may have beaten me…" He rapped his knuckles against the hull of the turret, "but this time I decided to stack the odds in my favor. But because it would make the work so much simpler, I'm going to give you one chance. Give up now and the Commander will give you an easy death. Hell, he might even offer you a job considering the recent dropouts. We could be brothers in arms, you and I, just don't get any ideas 'cause around here I'm top dog."

"Sorry to say, I don't follow a pack very well."

"A lone wolf, huh? I know a Kurdish girl I'm sure would like you. She's a little young now but in ten years…" Shotmaker whistled, tracing the outline of a woman's hips with his hands.

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself. You've dug your grave, now lie in it. What are you made of, Foxhound? We'll see in a short while…" Shotmaker placed on a black helmet with the Archangel logo upon it, pulling down the reflective silver visor and climbing back inside the tank, the hatch screeching shut as the engine thundered to life. The Patton's speaker blared, "Let's see what kind of snake you really are, Cobra or Milk?"

The turret rotated to stare Snake straight down the dark rifled barrel. The Foxhound agent leapt aside as another round shot out, tearing a small crater in the dirt just behind his former position, pelting him with barren soil. There wasn't much hope for Snake exposed in the open, so he dodged the turret's machinegun fire into a line of trucks, ducking behind the vehicle's cabin, the rapid impact of rounds piercing through the chassis of Snake's cover.

"Ready!.. Aim!.." Snake leapt aside, out of the cover, just Shotmaker finished his order, "Fire!" A glowing hot projectile slammed into the truck, eviscerating it in fire and smoke as the burning husk was thrown into the other trucks, all the while Snake found another line of trucks for cover. The Patton continued its volley upon the Foxhound's position, hissing tires and shattering glass following in Snake's wake.

The vehicle's integrity was deteriorating fast, so Snake dove to the next truck behind him, his prays answered when the machinegun's rounds failed to follow him. He'd managed to evade the sight of the tank gunner. The agent used the buildings to his advantage, slipping around to the Patton's flank. As he passed around the rotting shell of a house he heard Shotmaker's voice resonate from the tank's speaker, "Backup unit, deploy!" From the building's rear he could see four heavily armored troopers step out from a hatch in the tank's hull, all armed with FN P90 submachine guns. "Find him!" Shotmaker demanded.

As the soldier's searched in vain for Snake among the trucks the agent spied two fuel tanks mounted upon the Patton, a terribly vulnerable design flaw leaving the tank's power source to enemy fire. The Foxhound had only two grenades and the ammunition he carried with him. First thing first, however, Snake had to rid himself of the soldiers.

They had split up, hunting for Snake in groups of two. The first two were rounding the corner of Snake's cover when the agent sprung, seizing the first by the throat and slamming him to the floor, then grabbing the second soldier and pulling him into a headlock. A few seconds was all it took for the Outer Heaven guard to cease his struggling, his body falling limp to the dirt. Pausing only to check that the two were out cold, Snake could discern the forms of their comrades, far enough away that they wouldn't see his attack on the Patton.

Snake peppered the Patton with the rounds from the fallen soldiers' P90's, fuel leaking from the bullet holes in a torrent. Quickly he tore the clip away from a grenade, placing it atop the barrels before diving inside an ironclad vehicle.

"What the-?" An explosion wracked the air, a plume of fire erupting from the exposed petrol. The black exhaust from the tank's tailpipe stopped when the Patton's engine stalled, silencing the machine. Shotmaker's backup returned, rifles raised warily.

Snake cursed under his breath when the drone of the tank's engine was revived, a pleased Shotmaker exclaiming, "Back at it boys!" With solely a single grenade Snake would have to make it count, yet he had no other options. He searched among the boxes inside the truck, his eyes stopping on a welcome sight; a dozen land mines.

He stuffed them tightly into his pack, jumping out of the truck while careful to avoid the soldier's searching eyes.

* * *

Pvt. Alan Bennet walked, armed only with a P90, behind the heavy Patton piloted by his least favorite Archangel. His knees shook and his gun rattled even with the ballistic armor that Shotmaker had kindly forced on him to join his slapdash tank unit, the only thing which bound him to his duty instead of running in cowardice at this very moment was the even more oppressive fear of being shot for treason.

Dust covered his uniform while dirt chunks bombarded his helmet in the wake of the tank's miniature desert storm, but he knew griping would only get him lashed, so he held his tongue. Somewhere among the torn old structures that surrounded them was the intruder that had assailed Bennet on multiple occasions, and the Outer Heaven Private was reluctant to give him another chance. His nerves were getting the better of him; he pointed his gun at anything that moved to the point of paranoia.

It was only when they turned the corner and he tripped that he realized the severity of his situation while he remained conscripted to Shotmaker. The culprit was the leg of one of his compatriots, unconscious on the dirt with his ally collapsed next to him, a hand-shaped bruise set in his neck.

"Shit!" Bennet scrambled away, clumsily crawling away in his haste to get away from the scene of the surprise attack. His sole surviving companion came to his side, questioning, "What? Who did this?" One look at Bennet and he promptly walked over, kicking Bennet and exclaiming, "Wuss. Get over here and help me. We gotta wake 'em up."

"Y'mean… they're not… dead?"

"Look for yourself!"

As the tank rolled away Bennet leaned over his stone-cold comrade, slapping his face vigorously, with no observable result. "What should we do? They won't wake up!"

"Didn't you learn anything in training soldier? Don't you know what-" but the Seargent was cut short by an eruption, the tank enveloped in smoke, "The HELL?"

Abandoning their allies the two Outer Heaven soldiers rushed to their commander's aid. Bennet was relieved to see, out of the smoke, the Patton breaking through, scarred, but otherwise functional. Between the buildings a figure bolted, firing upon the tank. The Archangel's confident voice laughed, "Hah! Nice try! Cannon ready. Don't worry, this one packs a punch!.. Fire!" The ammunition flew toward the man, who futilely attempted to dodge the incendiary as it exploded just ahead of his form and tossing the intruder backward.

"Finally!" Bennet's partner hooted, racing toward the trespasser's prone body. Bennet couldn't place his finger on it, but something felt wrong, like it was too easy. His suspicions were confirmed when an explosion swallowed the Outer Heaven soldier, who had brazenly wandered into a minefield.

Bennet felt a pang of anguish at the falling of his ally, because without anyone else to take the agent on he saw only two options; run _toward_ the enemy and get shot by the intruder, or run _away_ from the enemy and get shot by his commander. As he pondered the circumstances of his likely demise, the voice of the Archangel shouted through his communicator. Bennet fumbled for the volume knob as Shotmaker barked, *-.-* "Get out there and find that bastard! "

"Sir! Th- the Minefield! What If I-"

*-:-* "GO!"

"Yessir!" Bennet tread carefully through the minefield, his weapon rattling like a jackhammer as his eyes anxiously darting for the slight mounds, masterfully concealed by the infiltration agent who still lay crumpled only yards away. Progress was slow-going, but when the scant signs of mines were gone, Bennet made his way to the body, lying on his back with his left arm draped over his face. The soldier didn't see his chest rising, but his suspicions weren't any lessened by the fact. This snake in the grass had pulled too many tricks for him to let down his guard.

As he approached the body a metallic squeal whined in the air. He turned to see the hatch of the tank thrown open, ending with a iron 'CLUNG' as his Commander's black helmet rose from inside. Finally Bennet reached the body, his rifle still leveled at the intruder's prone form. Nervous, his eyes traveled to his Commander and back to the intruder. Several times he kicked the man's torso. When the final blow struck his ribs the body jolted, thrusting his arm behind Bennet's legs and tripping him to the dirt.

The intruder rolled to his feet, sprinting out of sight in a sudden burst of adrenaline leaving Bennet in the dust. With Shotmaker's ushering orders screaming in his ear Bennet leapt to pursue the enemy. His rifle raised, the lieutenant had just lined his iron-sights with the sprinter when he disappeared inside the skeletal remains of a factory, sparks and plumes of just erupting where he had been only moments before from Bennet's bullets.

As Bennet rounded the corner he entered a cavernous room, filled with old rusted equipment from some long-forlorn assembly line. As he searched he spotted the intruder in his stolen uniform, standing atop the second floor hefting a grenade, poised to throw it into the hatch of his unsuspecting Commander. If this son of a bitch makes the shot Bennet might as well kiss his ass goodbye, so acting entirely on self preservation he did the first, and coincidentally the most irrational solution which presented itself.

In full-out Rambo fashion he ran, spraying lead towards his adversary. Though the peppering of rounds failed to strike the rebel, his incendiary, with the pin still engaged, was torn away from the soldier's hand.

The grenade tumbled to the earth several feet ahead of Bennet, who leapt for the explosive. As his hand reached for the grenade heavy combat boots slammed onto his fingers from above; the agent had jumped from the second floor right onto the grenade, kicking it away from the Outer Heaven soldier.

Bennet grit his teeth through the pain, feeling courageous despite his cowardly motives. Still crouched, he tackled the enemy to the floor, who threw Bennet by vaulting him off with his legs. Bennet landed face first, but through pained eyes he saw the grenade mere feet away on the floor. He scrambled for the weapon, seizing it in his hand with a victorious, "Hah!"

In his mirth he forgot about his opponent, who quickly reminded him of his presence when he twisted Bennet's arm, slamming him to the wall.

* * *

Snake was tired of wasting his time with guards, fed up with their attempts to inconvenience him at the worst possible moments. He slammed the nuisance into the wall, twisting his arm into the small of his back. Digging his boot into the joint of the soldier's knee, he pulled his head back until the soldier once again hit the floor.

"Ghah!" The grenade rolled out of the soldier's hands, tumbling behind the grates with Snake lunging for it. From behind the 'SHEENK' of a drawn blade reached Snake's ears, who turned to see the soldier returning to his feet, a gleaming knife in his hand as he dragged his sleeve across his lip. He slashed across Snake's midriff, flashes sparking from the knife as it struck the metal beams surrounding the combatants.

He lunged, brandishing a knife which Snake attempted to dodge. The blade drew blood from Snake's abdomen, and the mercenary brought it down for a vertical slice when his knife met Snake's. The guard broke contact, elbowing Snake in the face. Snake kneed him in retaliation, following with a fist to the face.

Blind, the soldier swung madly. Snake sidestepped, ducking beneath the blade before slipping past his arm to land a head-butt against the soldier's skull. He staggered back, shaking his head as if to banish the daze from his eyes.

From behind the soldier another 'SHEENK' resounded, startling the Outer Heaven goon, who hastily turned to face a determined Diane, a bowie wielded firmly in her fist. The soldier stared at her, an indifferent look on his face, to which she answered, "Good luck with that thing," pointing to his knife. "Mine's bigger."

But before they had a chance to match blades Snake made the final strike while the soldier wasn't watching, swinging his leg high to land a blow to the soldier's head, who only received further abuse when his skull rung against the iron bars.

Snake scooped up the grenade, turning to Diane, chuckling, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to stay hidden."

She crossed her arms with a defiant look, "Y'know Foxhound, I'm entirely capable of defending myself. I don't need you're protection to fight a few thugs. You need my help anyway. I can distract Shotmaker while you plant the grenade."

"I can take him down myself."

"He sees me he'll never think I'm enough of a threat to close the hatch. I'm not armed. I'll _negotiate_ with him while you sneak from behind."

Snake couldn't argue with the logic of the tactics, but before he could argue for the sake of her safety Shotmaker's voice shook the building, "Come on out, Snake! I know you're in there somewhere. I've got men on the way, and I can always work on demolishing it while I wait."

Snake shook his head, signaling the okay for the plan. Snake weaved through the rusted mechanisms littering the floor to the rear of the building. Meanwhile, he could hear as Diane shouted to answer Shotmaker's call. She must've been better as a sleeper agent than Snake had thought, her voice echoing to him as she said, "We surrender!"

"Where's that filthy Foxhound?" Shotmaker questioned, suspicious.

"He's been shot. Please, he needs medical attention!" She pleaded.

"Hah! Why should I care? That bastard's finally finished? One less headache to deal with, far as I'm concerned… Wait… Show me his body… Now!"

She must have dragged the Outer Heaven thug's body out to fool him, because as Snake came into sight of the tank he saw Diane kneeling over a body, with the Archangel Commander laughing and whooping in a feigned victory. Snake prayed that the soldier didn't gain consciousness before he reached the tank. He slipped between trucks and rubble walls, quickly progressing in the cover.

As silently as he could muster, Snake snuck in from behind the Patton, slipping off the clip with his teeth and rolling it down the hull to the edge of the Command hatch. The explosion riddled the man with holes before he rolled down the side of tank. His breaths quickly shallowed to nothing, blood soaking through his uniform onto the parched soil below.

Snake stared the body down for only a moment, rushing to Diane after a quick search only revealed the entrance key to Building Two. Snake doubted that the entrance would be as easy as his first infiltration, so Diane seemed the natural person to consult first on the subject.

"The building's guarded and requires a special pass." Diane said. Snake raised his card in a soundless inquiry which Diane answered, "Yeah, that's the one. I've got one too, so that won't be a problem. If they check though, they'd know you're not whoever you say you are. We need another distraction."

"What about him?" Snake pointed to the guard, still out cold.

"What about him?" Diane wasn't following.

"I'll explain on the way. C'mon, help me pick him up. Can you hotwire a truck?"

* * *

Ten minutes later…

Ocelot stood nervous, his hand incessantly twisting his SAS, Big Boss calmly seated in the desk Ocelot paced in-front of. The Russian spoke, "Why hasn't he reported in yet."

"Relax Adam. He may have gotten Machinegun Kid, but Shotmaker's the best of the best."

"It's a pity. I liked Kid. He had style."

"Style doesn't help in the long run, Adam. You of all people should remember that."

"Something doesn't feel right," Ocelot fiddled with the radio once more, "Shotmaker. Report. Have you captured the infiltrator?"

Several seconds of static answered before a fatigued voice answered across the channel, *-.-* "Well Boss… I hope you're happy… He's gonna get into Building Two."

Big Boss pulled away the microphone, "That's why I have Pyre Trooper on stand-by."

*-.-* "You'd be wise not to underestimate him."

"Your assessment?"

*-.-* "He's just as you said before. Quiet, fast. You chose his name well. Just like you… I shouldn't have expected any less."

"We'll get him. There isn't a man yet Pyra hasn't been able to burn out."

*-.-* "Trooper better have a few aces handy."

Ocelot broke in, "Besides a tank?"

*-.-* "Shut your mouth, Catajé! The only reason I made it was because it was a decoy they blew to Hell."

Big Boss interjected, "That's enough. Shotmaker, rendezvous with me in the hangar. I'll brief you there. Over."

_Author's note: To tell you the truth I'm conflicted over this chapter. It's distant, but I tried to incorporate Peace walker's tank battles with MGS 1, and every once and a while I get ambushed by one or two annoying guards that seem to come out of nowhere, so I thought Bennet could fill those shoes. I know some of you were hoping for a gunfight, but to tell you the truth nothing comes to mind that could really make that as interesting to me as hand to hand. Then again, this one wasn't really either, was it? I'd love to hear some ideas, however, if you have them. It took me awhile to cough this up, I know, and it's not because this feels like work. I enjoyed it, I'm just disappointed I couldn't come up with a better ending. Well, anyway it's over now. While I waited in vain for inspiration I wrote parts of the future boss battles. They've got some real potential and I think you'll like Pyre Trooper, I just need to get to there. Spring break is coming up so I'm hoping school won't keep me from taking so long again. till next tim_

_Thanks to all who read and commented on my work. You guys keep me going!_


	13. Playing With Fire

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Be sure to add the UTUBE part for the music because Phanfiction dot gnet (i have to spell it that way so they don't take it off) is noobish**

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**Chapter 12 – Playing With Fire**

Snake slipped through the garage gates of Building Two, heaving a sigh of relief as he and Diane passed the final checkpoint, abandoning the truck and the unconscious soldier inside to make their way into the halls of the compound.

His Beretta gripped tight, he scoped out the adjacent hallway, signaling to Diane that it was safe. As they proceeded down the hallway Diane muttered under her breath, "Snake! Do you even know if Madnar is in this building?"

"You said Pyre took the others to this building?"

"I think so… I tried to watch so I'd know where they'd taken Steve, but I lost sight of them just past the trees."

"The best we can do is look through the building to be certain. We might not find Madnar, but with any luck we'll find Steve and the others inside. Does Jennifer have anyone in Two who can help us?"

"I think Schneider's bunker station is nearby."

"Bunker station?"

"PARC has bunkers dug into the dirt all over the place. They're only about the size of a small shed, but they're heavily stocked and well positioned for raids. They're just like PARC's base; impenetrable and designed by Kyle to be imperceptible."

"You think he'd know where The Archangels stashed the others?"

"It's certainly worth a try."

That was when Snake's Codec beeped. Turning the dial to the receiver position, Snake heard the familiar voice of Kyle Schneider. *120.79* "You were talking about me, am I right?"

""Heh, speak of the devil," Snake commented. "How'd you know?"

*120.79* "I've set a series of microphones along the hallways. I monitor them from my bunker. It's like a sonic map of the compound. I could hear every word you said. Not to worry, no one besides me knows you're there. If memory serves you're not likely to run into any cameras, not on the first floor anyway. I can't be sure about our boys' whereabouts… Pyre was unusually quiet… Too quiet for the phones to detect. I fear he might have suspicions about how we've been able to pull off our operations so smoothly… but I do know that they've taken prisoners to the roof. That was the real reason I called you. There's only one chink in the chain…"

"Trooper's guarding it?"

*120.79* "No, but Pyre Trooper's Special Operations unit is on duty. I've no clue where Trooper's gone. It's stymieing… His troops are guarding the only entrance to the basement. An elevator located on the roof. You'll have to go through most of the compound to find it. There's a refinery along the route, so take caution. If Pyre's gonna try an ambush that's where it's gonna happen."

Snake's frustration peaked, "Do they ever run out of soldiers?. And why the Hell is it always the roof!"

*120.79* "What was that?" Kyle inquired, puzzled.

"Oh, uh… Nothing. Uhm, what makes these soldiers any different from the rest of these poorly trained hacks?"

*120.79* "The unit's five remaining soldiers are highly trained to operate jet packs rumored to have been developed by Russia during the Cold War. The fuel they use is the most efficient ever conceived, though Pyre doesn't often use the jetpack himself because of his affinity for his flamethrower. He doesn't like to waste it flying when he could be burning bodies."

"Are they all armed with flamethrowers?" Diane interrupted, the concern still evident despite her attempt to hide it.

*120.79* "No. I've watched their training sessions. They use standard rifles, but they're crack shots. They've got to be to be able to fire in flight."

"Alright. Anything I can use to my advantage?"

*120.79* "The unit's been plagued by technical difficulties. They're equipment often fails and that high up they're not likely to survive. Most of the soldiers left are extremely lucky. They're also near as insane as Trooper himself. The men with any sense quit after the fourth training casualty… This is only speculation, but the pressurized tanks they use seem to be very thin. A bullet through the tank will either send them tumbling or combust them to smoldering bits."

"Works for me."

*120.79* "I thought you'd feel that way. Be on the lookout. Pyre Trooper could be anywhere, but don't worry, I can be there to offer back up in less than five."

"Wait. Advice noted, but you're infiltrating? How are you going to get inside?"

*120.79* "I built the place, remember? I know all the little vents, shafts, and crawlspaces of that base better than The Commander himself."

"Have you served in the field?"

*120.79* "I know how to fight hand to hand combat. I've even knocked off a few Outer Heaven soldiers. You've no need to worry about me, I can take care of myself," and with that Schneider cut transmission.

"He's gonna get himself killed," Snake muttered to himself. Diane began to speak, but Snake silenced her quickly with a finger to his lips. As they closed in on the corner of another path he leaned into the wall, tapping on the corner. No boots echoed against the concrete floor, so Snake chanced a glance past the wall to the welcome sight of emptiness.

Diane continued, "What was that you said?"

"He is going to get himself killed. I know it doesn't make sense, but I've just got this feeling. I'd tell him not to come but I've always been taught to ignore superstition."

"Schneider's an amazing fighter. I've seen him in training; the man fights like a machine."

"You and I have very different definitions of amazing."

"He's a soldier. He knows what he's volunteering for," Diane said matter-of-factly.

The two passed through the hall of the compound unfettered by personnel. _If he doesn't, he's in for one hell of a lesson,_ Snake thought, not daring to say it aloud. "You know how many soldiers I've seen unprepared for battle? You're friend Schneider might know what to do, but knowing is only half the battle. The rest is action. He's got to do what he sets out to do. Has he ever taken a life?"

"Have you?"

"Plenty."

"How many is 'Plenty'?"

"Enough to know the difference between battle and slaughter. You may know what you're volunteering for, Diane, but this is no war. If it weren't for the US's involvement Outer Heaven's weapon will be finished shortly. You and you're band of rag-tag rebels would be little more than bugs on a windshield if Metal Gear becomes mass produced. There's no way they're not planning to produce dozens if not hundreds of those things, and if they do conventional warfare will be impossible. It will be a-hundred times worse than back in Mahalruit."

"Was it that bad?"

"Huh?"

"I was in Building One searching for Stevie… When it happened. My company survived and I'd heard nothing of the other men."

"The Archangels got to everyone they could… I got lucky. I'll be glad to see Pyre Trooper burn for what he's done to those soldiers."

The din of far off machinery clanging and screeching reached the Foxhound's ears, unconsciously Snake reached for his Survival knife. He and Diane approached a door, 'REFINERY' traced in bold across the entrance.

The temperature rose sharply to uncomfortably hot as the two came into a dirty room the size of a stadium, aged steel girders jutting from the ceiling supported by equally deteriorated pillars of concrete. The screeching and clanging of mechanisms in motion beat intermittently, loud enough to mask the movement of a couple of infiltration agents, but to Snake's expectations no workers or soldiers were visible in the ruddy red light. The whole room glowed with the dull crimson of fire coming from four gigantic vats of molten metal, glowing hot, stirred by a titanic rotating blender from within, set in the floor of each corner of the room.

Giant containers brimming with scrap metal travelled down a long rail suspended over those vats, dumping their contents one by one into the liquid metal, meanwhile another conveyor belt traveled along the wall beside the vats, upon which presses dropped cherry red blocks of iron, following the wall into another room.

Navigating through a haphazard assortment of emptied scrap containers, for one reason or another removed from the assembly line, Diane pressed a hand upon Snake's shoulder, pointing to something against the wall opposite them.

That's when Snake spotted it, a massive canary-yellow bulldozer sitting at the very end of the corridor. The engine still clicked from the compression of the cooling block. "Diane… Behind that slag chute. Something doesn't feel right," Snake growled, unholstering his Beretta. She disappeared as he approached the vehicle, pistol raised.

As he proceeded past the steel columns he became keenly aware of a foreign tap mingling with the tap of his own soles, originating somewhere ahead of him. Matching the tempo of the opposing step was the steady klink of iron, and then an artificial voice reverberated through the forebodingly dark hall, "Fire! Fire! Vicious Pyre! Ravenous furious flame. Raging crimson ever higher, No man has overcame."

The voice gradually increased in intensity, the clamor of clanging machinery following his beat. "No allegiance, friend nor foe. / All life chars in the blazing glow, / Damned forever to endure, / Hellish fire their only cure, / Eternal the scalding throe. / Fire! Fire! Vicious Pyre! / Voracious furious flame. / Raging crimson ever higher, / No conqueror shall tame. / Scorching all that cross its path, / Torching them in cold-blooded wrath. / Indiscriminately it incinerates, / By single spark it conflagrates, / The immortal psychopath. / Fire! Fire! Vicious Pyre! / Ferocious furious flame. / Raging crimson ever higher, / With so many lives to claim. Hah Hah heh heh."

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"Pyre Trooper, I presume?" Snake inquired to the disembodied voice.

"Yes, Solid Snake. I am the Pyre Trooper, the bearer of the cleansing flame." The synthesizer producing his adversary's voice seemed to cut out periodically, hinting that Pyre Trooper's voice was weak, even somewhat high. "In my former unit I was called 'der Feuer Kreiger', 'The fire warrior.' I can do things with fire you'll never witness again," Pyre Trooper revealed himself from behind the bulldozer, garbed in a starch white fire-proof suit, covered in soot from his mat black boots to crimson shoulder pads, with a winged skull imprinted on the warrior's pads denoting a member of the Archangels.

A fuel tank rested on the man's back, crimson in color, also bearing the Archangel symbol. A hose lead from the tanks to a triggered nozzle resting Pyre Trooper's palms, the pilot flame flickering at the barrel's end. The soldier wore a helmet similar in style to a fighter pilot's, the burnt orange visor shining with Snake's reflection, broken only by a spider-web crack along the visor's left eye.

"You're friend owes me a new helmet… but I guess I'll have to settle with an eye for an eye. Don't worry, you'll look just like our boss when I'm through with you…"

Snake un-screwed the silencer from his pistol, slipping it into his pocket as Pyre Trooper continued, "The Commander tells me not to underestimate you, Solid Snake. So I stacked the cards in my favor. Welcome to my element." His arms raised, Pyre Trooper's hands grazed across the whole room, "Here I am at my strongest and I think you'll find me more than a match for your scant arsenal."

"With a voice like that I see why you use pyrotechnics, and why you never take off your suit. That blow to your helmet must've affected more than just your goggles. You don't sound so intimidating with your real voice. What's the matter, no one could take you seriously, so you tried theatrics?"

"I ought'a burn that smug look off your ugly mug right now! You won't be so confident when you're nothing but soot burned into the floor." Pyre Trooper climbed into the bulldozer, laughing sadistically as he turned the ignition and the vehicle rumbled to life, a spout of exhaust spewing from the engine's pipes.

Ten tons of Iron propelled forward with startling velocity, an empty scrap container taking the blow meant for the agent and hurtling backward into the wall. The machine beeped as it reversed, turning to face the Foxhounder again. Pyre Trooper unholstered his Flamethrower nozzle as he shoved the throttle forward, intending to strafe Snake with a shot of fire.

Snake had to think quickly. As the bulldozer thundered toward him he could see it was on its way to collide with two more scrap containers. The flamethrower roared with napalm, Snake jumping atop the containers only moments before. Snake's platform shook violently, accompanied by the bang of heavy metal impact as the agent leapt once more, flying over the vehicle now pushing the scrap directly into the molten pits.

Once more the bulldozer turned to face Solid Snake, this time its inner-workings screeching and clanging in protest. It wasn't much longer before the machine wouldn't be able to handle Pyre's abuse. As Pyre hurtled the machinery forward Snake dropped a small clay-like bundle to the ground, kneeling before jumping onto the treads of the dozer itself. He attached another clump of C4 to the engine compartment of the vehicle, tumbling off the side of the machine and taking cover before igniting the explosives.

_KABOOM! _The Dozer, enveloped in smoke, slid into a vat of molten metal, fire engulfing the machine as it sank. From the vestiges of the burning mechanics Snake could hear the pained but confident laughter of a maniac. "HAHAHAhahaha! I've not yet begun to fight, Foxhound!" The cabin-glass shattered, glass scattering into liquid metal as Pyre Trooper's sooted, gray figure rose from the wreckage, two plumes of fire and smoke propelling him higher and higher until he cut the fuel. The Trooper landed with a thud onto a pile of metallic scrap.

From his belt the Archangel ripped a canister, counting, "One… Two… Three…Hehehe" He tossed it into the air, emitting a flash, and a sound so loud Snake's ears rang.

His eyes were blinded, the flash burned into his retinas. Through the residuals of the white light Snake could make out the slightest outline of the enemy. His eyes began to return to normal, but his ears still rang loud enough to obscure the sound of Pyre Trooper's bayonet.

Snake ducked beneath the advancing blade, shoving the barrel up and exposing the Archangel's midriff. The agent thrust his fist into Trooper's gut, eliciting a grunt fading in and out of the manufactured voice.

The Archangel swiped his flamethrower through the air in an attempt to bludgeon his rival, only for the agent to duck and seize the weapon as it passed. Snake twisted the weapon out of Trooper's hands, tossing it aside as he hurled another fist toward the Archangel's cracked, reflective visor. The already-flimsy shell collapsed easily under the force.

Trooper screamed, clutching at his eyes as he backed away. Snake picked the glass from his knuckle, watching his adversary struggle to revive his vision. Several shuddering gasps later, Trooper quieted, his shoulders heaving with his heavy breaths. He removed his hands from the mask, and looked up to Snake. Behind fiery red bangs and blood-shot, hateful green eyes, even in rage, the eyes were distinctly… feminine.

Trooper let out another scream, the voice saturated with static until, finally, the false voice gave out entirely to reveal the voice of a woman, as full of hate as the eyes. The scream shifted into twisted, mirthful laughter. "Hahahaha! What's the matter? Won't shoot a girl?"

Snake's pistol shook ever-so slightly in his hand. In all his training he'd never had to shoot a woman. Pyre Trooper unlatched her fuel tank which was now leaking profusely onto the floor. The tank dropped with a metallic clang as she unbuckled and unzipped the fire-retardant suit, stepping out in a sleek shiny gray jumpsuit and discarding the rest in a bundle on top of the remnants of the jetpack. Her fiery red hair hung messily down her back, heavy from sweat and matted down in the helmet's aftermath. She was middle-eastern, likely Israeli, judging from her minor accent.

She had threatened Snake's allies and killed so many men in Mahalruit alone. Who knew how many lives she was responsible for spiriting away in the heat of war. She was a soldier first. The anger set within her eyes was unparalleled by any Snake had ever encountered, even among soldiers.

Trooper removed the bayonet from the crippled nozzle at her feet, sliding the blade lightly across her arm. Even without applying pressure, the edge drew blood. Her voice was calm and collected as she said, "There is a reason we creatures are warm blooded. Fire brings life. But just as fire brings life, so can it take it away. at one time, a lifetime ago, I was once called Enya Iseda. She died in the fires of Israel's chaotic upbringing. I arose from the fires, half-dead from burns and dehydration. Heheheheh. Who'd a thought a troop of German soldiers would be the ones to save a little jewish girl?" For only a moment, red scars seemed to flash across her dark, angelic skin.

Trooper wrapped her arms around herself, "The fires ravaged me to within a micrometer of death, only to spare me the mercy by forcing me to continue in this world. Life's a bitch… Now those I despise will experience my pain, but they won't suffer long. I'm kinder than fate. I end the pain."

She kneeled, sliding her knife across the fuel spread across the floor. "My name is Pyra… Every night I dream of Hellfire… Are you Satan's agent, sent to collect my debt?.. Well, I guess we'll find out." Pyra stood, removing a lighter from her belt, setting the knife's blade alight.

She watched the flame dance across the stainless steel, the fire reflecting as sinisterly in her eyes as it once did her visor. All at once she lunged, the flaming knife a streak through the air as she advanced.

_Author's Note: I'm back! After a disheartening absence I've finally posted the follow up chapter to Capture the Frag. I was at a loss of what to do to preserve the bulldozer while preventing the story from becoming any more swamped with bosses than it has to be canononically. (if that's a word) So I combined the Dozer with Pyre Trooper. I hope this can make up for my absence. I'm very anxious to hear your opinions of Pyre Trooper. I made her a woman to differentiate her from The Fury, otherwise all Pyre Trooper is is a white-suited version of the boss from MGS3. Did I go too far? Does the story seem at all disjointed? After all the chapter was written over a period of 5 months. Anyway, please enjoy. I hope you can't wait to see the second part of Pyre Trooper's Boss fight in "Burn Out"_

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	14. Burn Out

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter 13 – Burn Out / The Perfect-Soldier Nullified**

**1057 Hours, February 5, 1995**

**The Refinery**

Snake parried Pyra's fiery blade, only to sustain a boot to his face in retaliation. Dazed, he dodged her knife's second advance, staggering back against a scrap chute brimming with iron filings. He leapt atop the chute to avoid another blow, Pyra's fist ringing the hot iron, and yet she did not flinch.

Snake dropped to the ground, rolling behind his adversary and tackling her into the bucket of slag. "Arrrgh!" She tossed her head back, almost breaking the agent's nose. Snake staggered back, dodging swipe after swipe while he desperately recovered from the pain. He tasted blood on his lips as he redoubled his attack, forcing Pyra back.

She dug her hand into the iron filings, tossing them into Snake's eyes.

The dust hit Snake's eyes like needles. Snake swore, rubbing furiously at his eyes, desperate for his vision to return.

"Don't worry, I don't kick a Foxhound when he's down. I just needed time to retrieve a few things from my suit."

Snake forced his eyes open to the sight of an empty room. He turned, behind him stood Pyre Trooper, A bottle gripped tightly in her hand. She took a swig from the bottle, bringing her knife, still flaming, to her lips. Gasoline, ignited by the knife, shot toward the agent, settling on his BDU jacket. Snake ripped the jacket off, throwing the burning coat to the ground.

Pyra laughed, bringing the bottle up for another round of fire. Snake un-holstered his Beretta, taking aim at the Archangel's fuel source. His bullet hit its mark, and while it failed to set the gas alight, the round exited through his adversary's hand on the way out. Red mist mingled with aerosolized gas as Pyra let out an agonized scream, the remnants of her fuel dripping from her bloodied hand to the floor.

She doubled over, cradling the injured hand tight against her abdomen, red hair draping her face as she rose and fell in pained, angry sobs. "That was my hand, Bastard!" Snake hesitated, his gun wavering in a slight pang of guilt.

Then he heard a maddened cackle break through the sobs. At first he attributed it to her depleted mental state, but then Snake saw the glint of something hidden under her arms in her fetal crouch. Snake said to the Archangel, "I see through those crocodile tears."

"Ha ha ha ha!" She rose, clutching not knives, but a nine-tail steel tipped whip, the blood of her palm dripping down the handle. "You're smarter than you look, soldier. Why fight like this? What's the Commander's agenda to you? Catajé extended an invitation to you. You don't look like a family man, so why not say yes? After all-" She whipped the nine-tails to the ground, cracking in a pool of her fuel tank's runoff. Another crack sparked the fuel to life, burning the barbs at the tail's ends.

In the blink of an eye the whip cracked across the floor, clawing through Snake's combat boot, wrapping around his heel. Pyre trooper tugged, ripping Snake's feet out from under him. Landing on his back, Snake rolled without a moment to spare, the whip's steel teeth scratching down the concrete.

As Pyre Trooper brought down the whip once again Snake lunged, coming in too close for her weapon to be effective. He came down low, elbowing the Archangel in the stomach before striking her across the face, knocking her back. In her daze she dropped the whip, staggering against the railway just above a vat of molten metal. She gazed at her whip, but when she leaned as if considering its retrieval, Snake raised his pistol.

"Do it!" Pyra spat, "Put me out of my misery! Send me to those burning demons whose company I so much deserve… You don't know how I've hoped for this day, Foxhound. My heart is black, charred to carbon in the same fires that burned my victims to satisfy a lust for vengeance… Perhaps if fate is kind to me… I can rest in peace…"

Snake replaced his Beretta, his gruff voice the only sound besides the hissing steam of heated pipes and the roar of the fire below, "There is no redemption in death. You want to make good for your sins, you've got to see to it that Metal Gear's existence doesn't last. That the Archangel's legacy does not come to pass."

Pyra's ghostly burns flashed across her skin before she answered calmly, "Very well." From her back pocket she pulled two cards, dropping them at her feet and saying to the agent, "A key to the basement and another for my armory. I warn you, however, you will require a second key to enter the basement. My Special Operations team possesses the other key. They also have Drago Madnar, and they've been ordered to shoot him upon first sight of an intruder. It will not be easy, but if you're lucky you can make it through and find your allies. TX-11 and TX-22 are waiting at the basement's entrance… I suggest you use the Nikita."

She sat atop the railing above the molten metal, her hand enclosing a chain that lead into the viscous alloy, "Good luck, Foxhound."

"Don't do it!"

Her foot left the platform and she tumbled into the fires below. Snake reached the railing only to see the bubbles as she sunk beneath the burning liquid.

Snake ran dirty fingers through sweaty hair, staring at the spot where the last bubbles had surfaced. He wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his black uniform tee, tapping a cigarette from his beaten pack of Lucky Strikes. The cig was bent, but otherwise no worse for the wear as far as the agent was concerned. As he exhaled his first drag he watched from the corner of his eye as Diane cautiously stepped out from the darkness, "She just… jumped?"

"Snake grunted, "She's endured wars, watching men get killed, eventually killing them herself. That much death does something to you. It crushes spirits…" He gestured to the molten metal, "Warps minds. It scars far more grievously than a bullet or a broken bone."

"How long have you fought in wars? Have you been scarred yourself, Snake?"

He was quiet for a moment, staring into the glowing abyss. He pulled out his Beretta, checking the chamber and loading a new magazine. He walked over to the cards, swiping them up and slipping them into his pack. Snake took one last glance at his smoldering uniform before dismissing it. "C'mon," he said, "We've got to get out of here. Stevie needs your help, and I still have a job to do."

Snake saw Diane bite her lip. She knew he was right, and so she decided not to push the issue any further as they negotiated their way to a freight elevator on the other side of the refinery.

**A Half-hour before…**

Null's emotionless voice reverberated through the black nothingness of Fox's consciousness, _"Why won't you die….. What do you hope to accomplish by living?"_

Fox's answer was slow to come, but concise, _"…To end the senseless killing."_

Null continued, _"I used to get dreams about my comrades. They'd come save me with strong arms and laughing voices. When I woke up, I had nothing. No joy, no sorrow, no hatred, no memory. When I wake up from the darkness, all I see are the bodies of men I've killed lying in front of me… My memory is riddled with corpses… What do you hope to accomplish by living?"_

"_To see that I've redeemed myself for the lives I've taken and the lives I've ruined."_

And yet Null continued, _"Everybody dies. Crime, disease, accidents, war; no matter how noble a person you are, no matter how good a soldier, there are no exceptions. Even if I don't kill them, they die… This world is full of death, and yet you won't be killed. Why? Why do you still live? What do you hope to accomplish by living?"_

"_I've got to live… for Naomi."_ … Frank was on a mission for RENAMO's intelligence unit that night. It was a clouded, dark night in the Rhodesian countryside when Fox was charged with rendezvousing with a former Soviet scientist and his daughter and escorting him to the US embassy.

The plan had gone off without a hitch. Frank had met up with the doctor and they'd even made it past the barracks of their development facility. But all Hell broke loose when one of the guards recognized Fox as not one of their own. Null took full control. It was a miracle Fox didn't kill his objective, but in his frenzied carnage he'd struck down two scientists leading a young child –maybe five or six years old- out of the building.

She screamed as her parents were cut down, a scream like ice-water, shocking Fox out of his Perfect-Soldier state of mind and back to humanity. She pushed Fox away and ran for her life into the foliage outside the facility. Fox couldn't bear the thought of leaving her to die in the wilderness.

Fox tracked the little girl for days through the Rhodesian jungle to find her half-starved at the foot of the Zambezi river. He removed his disguise and prayed she would not recognize him. He came to her silently sobbing beside the river and swept her up like a kind stranger.

He wiped the tears from her eyes and though she could not speak from shock, she thanked him with a tearful smile. His guilt was unbearable as he looked into her eyes, but he vowed to himself and to her parents he would see to it that she had a chance at a normal life...

"_Why do you still live?"_

"_To protect her. To make up for… what I did to her."_

"_Crime… Accidents… Everybody dies… Even if I don't kill them… No matter how good… I had nothing…"_

"_I have something… Not much, but something to live for. I'd die for it too."_

"_...Noble…"_

…

Reality came slowly at first. The vibration of the bed Frank lied upon was first. Then came the rumble that accompanied it. Fox's eyes shot open.

He was in a helicopter with two men in FOXHOUND uniforms in the pilot cabin.

Gray Fox bolted up, tearing away his restraints and seizing his machete from the seat opposite him. By now the soldiers had noticed him. They watched as he shoved open the door, taking a moment to survey the land as the copter sped just above the tree line. From his vantage point Fox could see Outer Heaven's outskirts a few miles away. He had no time to lose. He heard one of the soldiers ask in shock, "Hey! What're you do-" and he jumped out of the hovercraft.

The tree branches tore at his clothing in a dull and familiar pain. He landed with his usual grace onto Outer Heaven soil. He needed to contact FOXHOUND HQ. They had to know about Big Boss' defection. There must be something they can do.

He dialed into the receiver *120.99* A familiar voice, that of his old comrade Roy Campbell, answered on the other side, "Who is this? Present your codename and Identification Number!"

"This is agent Gray Fox, Colonel. ID number 000."

*120.99* "Fox? We'd thought you were dead…"

"I'll explain later. Right now we have a situation. Big Boss has-"

*120.99* "Defected. We know. I've been placed in charge to salvage what's left. We lost contact with Big Boss hours ago, and we haven't been able to reach Solid Snake. They've got some sort of signal scrambler deployed against long range transmissions."

"Send in some back-up. Snake is still in there and we've still got a Metal Gear to take care of."

*120.99* "I'm… I'm sorry Frank… It's out of my hands…"

"What? What are they going to do about TX-55?"

*120.99* "The Secretary of Defense feels it would be prudent to cut our losses and ensure that that machine is destroyed thoroughly."

"What are you suggesting?"

*120.99* "An air raid will be there in a few hours…"

"They're going to fish out a walking nuclear silo with bombs? Do they realize Outer Heaven isn't just another military base? There are civilians! Thousands will die!"

*120.99* "Collateral damage… I don't like it either."

"… You're no better than The Archangels…" Frank finished in disgust, "Colonel… In light of recent events I'd like to formally offer my notice of resignation. Gray Fox, over and out."

*120.99* "Wait! Fox-" Campbell's protest was cut off when Fox cut the battery to his intercom. He threw his FOXHOUND dog-tags to the ground, crushing them into the dirt beneath his boot for good measure before sprinting through the brush back to Outer Heaven.

_Author's note: Another chapter down on that long road to completion. I hope you guys enjoyed the end to Snake's bout with Pyre Trooper, and that you found my account of Fox's finding of Naomi adequate. I didn't want it to dominate the chapter but I wanted to sneak it in as a clue into the motivations behind Fox's more moral decisions. Fox's decision to leave FOXHOUND will ultimately lead to his position in my sequel to this story, and it offers a bit of insight into his true loyalties. If it's not apparent yet, don't worry, it'll be clear by the end of the story. I want to thank Antoine, , Felix, One of Your Fans, and Son of Big Boss for commenting on my story in my month and a half absence. Please keep the comments coming! I love to hear what you guys think of the story as it unfolds. To tell you the truth, the twists and changes I make to the story are almost always on impulse. Very few of the details that I've put into this story are planned out, so to see all of it come together so cohesively baffles me and fills me with excitement for the conclusion. At this point I am 40,000 words into the story and I've still got a ways to go to the end of the game. THX for reading!_


	15. Out of the Pan, Into the Oven

**METAL GEAR SOLID: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER**

_by Rookie's Eyes (based off of Metal Gear)_

_Disclaimer: the Metal Gear series and their characters are property of Kojima Productions and Konami _

**Chapter 14 – Out of The Pan, Into The Oven**

Another recap (**Please skip to 1121 Hours, if you feel it unnecessary**) Charged with rescuing fellow agent Gray Fox and destroying a secret project lead by The Commander and Colonel Catajé (A certain Russian pistol-whipper we all love to hate), Snake has entered the base and made contact with two Provisional African Republican Coalition members, Kyle Schneider (Former Architect) Diane Simetra (Defenses Specialist).

Along the way to finding Gray Fox, Snake has freed several Prisoners, two of which were incapable of escaping because of their imprisonment in the higher security areas of the base, as well as a third, Steven Simetra (a valuable POW and brother of Diane) whose leg was broken, rendering him immobile. With no choice but to leave them behind, Snake promised to return later. After allowing himself to be captured, Snake found Fox, who informed him of the Metal Gear's deadly potential as a Nuclear launch platform. As soon as they escaped confinement, the two confronted Shotmaker, The first member of The OUTER HEAVEN ARCHANGELS, the mercenary group behind Colonel Catajé and the mysterious Commander.

Following the Archangel's defeat, Gray Fox volunteers to escort Diane's brother Steven and the other two incarcerated soldiers out of the base for extraction, while Snake journeys on to the roof where Diane believes Dr. Madnar was being held. Unfortunately, Gray Fox's escape with the others was thwarted by Pyre Trooper and Big Boss, the mastermind behind Metal Gear's newest incarnation. Meanwhile, Snake grappled with The Machinegun Kid and Twin Shot, the latter posing as Madnar. After dispatching Twin Shot Snake was informed of the Gray Fox's group's capture by none other than Shotmaker, alive and well. Diane is the only so far to have been successfullyrescued, and the two have made it to the building they believe contains both Madnar and their friends.

After a seemingly failed attempt to convert Fox to the Archangel cause, Big Boss left him to be picked up for Med-evac by Myer and Turner. Fox escaped the care of his fellow agents, and now heads back to Outer Heaven to confront his Mentor one last time.

When Snake defeated his latest foe, Pyre Trooper, she left him with one final instruction, "(Here's)a key to the basement and another for my armory. I warn you, however, you will require a second key to enter the basement. My Special Operations team possesses the other key. They also have Drago Madnar, and they've been ordered to shoot him upon first sight of an intruder. It will not be easy, but if you're lucky you can make it through and find your allies. TX-11 and TX-22 are waiting at the basement's entrance… I suggest you use the Nikita."

Will Snake make it to Madnar, you probably know the answer to that. But, as to how that answer is achieved, I hope you still look forward to finding out…

**1121 Hours, February 5, 1995**

Snake smothered what was left of his Lucky Strike beneath a tattered boot, stepping onto the freight elevator platform with Diane close behind. He gazed up the shaft and could see, countless flights above him, the glint of daylight.

Diane approached the console, typing in a code quickly to control the platform. When she pressed the enter button, however, the machine gave a harsh, grating bleep, the words "INVALID CODE" flashing across the screen.

From behind Snake heard a man say, "It's not going to be that easy," followed by Diane's voice crying in elation, "Kyle!"

Snake turned to see a black man, tall and strong set, arms outstretched, embracing a rushing Diane. What little hair he had was the blonde stubble on his chin, a naked streak of skin down his chin where an old wound had marred the flesh. Schneider placed his colleague at her at her feet, looking to Snake as he said, "You're a hard man to follow, Snake. Every turn I take leads to the enemy, and I'm the architect! How on Earth did_ you_ make it into the buidling?"

"Long story. I'll tell you later… Maybe."

"… Then I'd better make sure this goes smoothly."

"You said 'it won't be that easy.' What've they got waiting for us up there?" Snake said, staring at the sky peaking through the top of the shaft.

"Pyre Trooper's squad is hunkered down up there with a gun pointed at Madnar's head and the others leveled on this entrance," Schneider pulled a sheet of paper out of his pack, laying out the blueprints to the building on the floor tiles. "We're…. here." He pointed to the base of a tower, "forty floors below the roof. The top floor is very open, two hundred square-meters with minimal cover with the exception of the ventilation maintenance junction. This elevator is heavily exposed and it's a long walk to the junction room where they're holding Madnar. I propose we make a detour right… Here." His finger, dragging across the paper, stopped at a shaft twelve floors below the roof. "This airshaft will take you directly to the intake vents up on the roof. We can catch them by surprise from inside the junction room itself. We'll have Madnar safe in no time."

"How many of Trooper's crew are up there?"

"Pyre had four total. I'd assume the entire squad is waiting. Oh, by the way," Kyle unholstered a Desert Eagle, tossing it to Diane, who caught it eagerly, "I thought you might need a replacement"

"Thank you, Schneider," She said cheerfully, checking the chamber and the ammo clip, jamming it back inside with a click when she was satisfied. Kyle stepped over to the console, typing 'F014' into the digital display, and the elevator shuddered into life, rising slowly up to their destination.

…

Snake's eyes had to adjust to the light briefly before he could make out the room through the grating. A soldier leaned against the wall opposite a cell, a man lying on the thin bedding suspended within it. The soldier shifted on his feet, passing his rifle between hands as he huffed in boredom. The vent was flimsy aluminum, so Snake loaded his pistol, fitted it with a silencer, and took aim. The soldier's body slumped over to the floor, streaking blood across the wall. All the while, the prisoner squealed, scrambling as far away from the corpse as possible while Snake shoved through the vent.

"Aaaaaah!" It was the voice of Dr. Madnar, Snake recognized it from the audio recording in briefing.

"Doctor?"

"Who… Who are you? Another man come to kill me?"

As Kyle climbed through the hole, followed by Diane, Snake searched the body, introducing himself to the doctor, "Solid Snake. I've been sent to keep you alive. You've got something I want."

"My name is… was Dr. Drago Madnar. Bah! I was once a renowned robotics engineer, now I am stepped all over like last week's cockroach… I take it you're here to destroy my work like your failed comrade? I suppose you will be needing to know its vulnerabilities."

Snake found the cardkey to the prison cell, Passing it through the scanner and shoving the unlocked door aside. "As quickly as possible. I need to know how to take this thing down."

The doctor stood, dusting himself off and readjusting his spectacles. "I'm afraid… I cannot do that without a favor."

"What? Why the Hell not?" Snake seized him by the collar of his shirt, shoving him into the wall.

"Aaargh... Quid pro quo. vagrants have my daughter! I need you to save Ellen, please! You do this, and you shall have everything I know at your disposal."

Snake growled, "I'll make sure your daughter is safe, Madnar, but how do I know I can trust you?"

Madnar unhooked Snake's hand, walking over to the dead guard and extracting his communicator, adjusting the frequency and placing the earbud into his ear. "There. My frequency is 141.59. You can contact me for the information you will need as soon as my daughter is safe."

"Shneider, can you… huh?" Snake turned to see Diane, but Schneider was nowhere in sight. A door, leaking sunlight through, was left slightly ajar.

Just when Snake approached the squeaking door Schneider pushed through, dragging an unconscious man with him. "C'mon, I've got three more waiting outside."

...

When all their unconscious adversaries were carefully tucked away in the relative safety of the closet, Snake locked the door, propping it with a nearby desk and returning to Metal Gear's creator, "Your daughter, where is she?"

"They've got her holed up in the basement. I've begged to speak with her, to know that she's alright, but they refuse! All I can tell you is that they're using my creations, those abominations, to guard her! TX-11 and TX-22."

"You're telling me there's more than one operational metal gear?"

"Hardly. 11 and 22 are simply scaled down prototypes. 11 was used to test Metal Gear's locomotion, while 22 has been retrofitted with weaponry similar to the full scale model and an AI unit. My creations! I spent months on those prototypes, perfecting every gear, refining every aspect of its being, and he turns them on me like lions… See to it, Foxhound, that The Commander gets his due."

"As good as done, but what are we going to do with you? We leave you here, you're not likely to evade the soldiers for long…"

"If I may have the device locked inside that desk…" Madnar pointed to a drawer in the desk, to which Snake promptly took aim and let one fly. "Careful!" Madnar chided, "There's very few working models of it left," he added as he pulled open what was left of the drawer to extract a small electronic gizmo similar to a pager. "A demonstration is in order, I suppose." He clipped the device to his jacket pocket, pressing a button on the side. With an excited beep and an electronic flash, Madnar shimmered, then disappeared. His disembodied voice assured Snake, "I found it in the very basement they're keeping my daughter after I tried to escape with your fellow agent, Fox, but I never got the chance to get away. It was hidden in stacks of old equipment from a long forgotten Mothercompany of Outer Heaven's. With this, you need not fear my being caught. I will be long gone before they figure out you've freed me. They call it 'Stealth Camouflage'."

The idea that a man could disappear right in front of his eyes unnerved him, but Snake was thankful he wouldn't have to worry about anymore prisoners to babysit. "I'll contact you as soon as I have your daughter, Madnar, in the meantime, stay out of trouble."

"Foxhound, you have but one worry; the Metal Gear prototypes have armor too thick for conventional weaponry. You'll need to destroy them with heavy explosives."

"Pyre said something about an armory," Snake said, recalling her final words of counsel, "She also said we needed a second key to enter the basement."

Shneider flashed a card in his hand, "I know the elevator we need to take to get there too."

"You've no time to lose! Please, stop this monstrosity and end my infernal machine!"

Shneider led them through the doorways, out into the openness of the roof, strewn with solar cells and intake ventilation shafts.

Something in the back of Snake's mind bothered him. This didn't quite feel right, "Schneider! Were those men you ambushed wearing Pyre trooper's squad uniform?" He couldn't quite recall, but he hoped his instincts were wrong.

"Uh… no… Why- Oh fu-"

Snake's instincts were never wrong, and right now he hated being right. The Squad Captain gave the order, "HAhahahah! C'mon boys, we've got fish to fry!"

"Damn!" Snake whipped out his pistol, searching for the enemy.

_Author's Note: __So, I'm not gonna lie, it's taking much longer than I had hoped for me to finish this story. I must admit, I had never anticipated preparation for college would eat up so much of my time. I'm still as hyped as ever to be making another post, even if it is fairly brief. I figure I need to learn to walk again before I run, so I made this small post to let you guys know I care and I still think bout ya. THX for reading! Especially for the comments by Anon and Satanic Park of Madness. You guys keep me going, so please comment!_


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